


Make the World Safe and Sound For You

by RedBerrie



Series: The Hamil-ABO 'Verse [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alpha!TJeffs, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Holding for ransom, Kidnapping, M/M, Mpreg, Omega!Alexander, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10001633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBerrie/pseuds/RedBerrie
Summary: Had he not been feeling poorly, he would have noticed something was wrong the moment he opened the door. As things stood, however, he felt like shit and was navigating the world in a bit of a haze. The feeling ofsomething's not rightdidn't hit him until he was closing the car door behind him.Thomas is spearheading a bill that have some people very upset. Upset enough to kidnap his mate, to try and make him drop the issue ...





	1. The Snatch

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a sequel to "[That Dreamlike Candlelight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9059986/)". You **DO** need to have read that fic before reading this one, at least to understand everything that's going on.
> 
> This is going to be a little different than my normal stuff. It's not going to get too dark, or too nasty, and no one's going to actually get hurt. But for a fandom based around a musical that devotes half its running time to a war, there isn't enough physically dangerous situations; and when there are, they're usually one-and-done, someone gets in a barfight, type scenarios.
> 
> I'm not going to use warnings beyond what's in the tags, not yet. I don't think things will get that dire. If they do, however, I'll check those boxes and warn you guys. I don't want anyone to read something they're not comfortable with!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

There were few things Senator Thomas Jefferson (R-Va.) hated more than money.

Actually, that wasn't accurate. What he really hated was his mate's money. Specifically, the legal hoops they had to jump through so that his mate could get his money.

So, if he was in the mood to be reasonable, Thomas didn't hate the money itself, but the laws about the money.

Thomas wasn't in the mood to be reasonable.

The law was clear, in financial as well as other things. An unbonded omega belonged to themselves. A bonded omega belonged to their Alpha.

An unbonded omega drew their own paycheck. A bonded omega's paycheck went to their Alpha, either physically or electronically. If electronically, via direct deposit, it had to deposit into a bank account that that omega couldn't access in any meaningful way. At the very most, the omega could have "omegan joint access", meaning that they could view the balance and recent purchase history, and had a debit card that drafted a limited amount of funds from that account, but do nothing else.

Thomas glared at the computer screen. Like most of the laws regarding omegas, this law was supposedly meant to protect the frail omega and make sure the poor dear didn't get confused and hurt themselves; or, worse, their Alphas. In actuality, it was meant to make sure that those omegas stayed in their place, and that their Alpha masters stayed in control.

Before bonding with Alex, Thomas had been one of those Alphas. Omegas were fragile creatures, meant to be protected and nurtured by their Alpha lovers. But Alex was strong – stronger in some ways than Thomas, he'd admit – and needed no protection. Thomas had come to really appreciate that sometimes "protect and nurture" was just a euphemism for "control and dominate".

Which led him to the money.

Thomas was shit at money. He knew it, he'd admit it, he _had_ admitted it in the past. Alex, on the other hand, was good at money. So Alex had fired Thomas' accountant and taken on the task himself. Several times a week, Alex would log into their bank account as Thomas, reconcile the checkbook, pay any bills that needed paying, and do whatever other financial tasks were needed to keep them going that Thomas didn't know or care about. Then, twice a month, when his paycheck got deposited, they would pretend that Alex's tiny omegan brain was capable of none of that and Thomas would log on and transfer Alex's paycheck into Alex's account; or, rather, Thomas' second account that Alex did have full access to.

Of course, Alex was, in fact, Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury Department for over two years now. Which meant that the federal government trusted him with the entire country's budget and money, but not to keep his personal account in the black.

There were plus sides to being mated to an omega. Thomas' gaze fell to a framed photo on his desk, taken when the two of them had been vacationing in Paris. The pair were kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower, a chaste peck with the Tower and its beautiful landscaping in the background. Thomas smiled at the memory, then brought the photo to his face to inhale the smell embedded in the photo paper. They had spent an extra 50 cents at Target to have it printed on odor paper, specifically designed to absorb a scent and release it back so slowly that in some instances the smell had been known to last for decades. Alex had rubbed Thomas' copy on his scent gland later, after a day spent enjoying each other's company; the photo smelled like a content, happy Alex. Thomas had done the same for Alex's copy, which sat on Alex's desk in the Treasury Building.

Thomas hesitated a moment before unlocking a drawer in his desk and sliding it open, then rummaging around until he found what he wanted. This photo of Alex was very, very different – the omega was completely naked, in Thomas' lap, riding his dick, and mere seconds away from coming. Thomas had used a selfie stick to get the angle just right. Alex gazed at the camera through lidded eyes, his lips parted in a gentle “O” of pure pleasure. His back was arched, his hands were gripping the blanket they were sitting on, the toes on the one foot visible were curled, and his dick was fully erect and the most inviting shade of pink. This photo had been printed off at home, and smelled of an aroused Alex. Actually, the odor from the nude pic had permeated the entire drawer, and it and everything in it now smelled strongly of a horny Alex.

Thomas wasn't exactly complaining.

He smiled down at the exquisite creature he was happy to spend the rest of his life with, thought about how much pleasure they brought each other, and wondered how in the world anyone could ever want to destroy that sense of camaraderie and intimacy with their mate by changing them from partner to property.

His phone beeped, indicating an incoming text message. Thomas put the photo back and locked the drawer securely before unlocking the phone and reading the message with a frown.

Then, again, some problems in bonded life had absolutely nothing to do with endotype.

* * *

While Thomas was sitting at his desk, contently reminiscing about the good times spent with his mate, said mate was anything but content at the moment. Alex shook three acetaminophen into his hand and swallowed them with a mouthful from his water bottle – wincing as the motion caused his head to throb even harder – before crossing his arms on his desk and burying his face into the dark pocket they formed. Of course there was a bug going around the office at the moment, and of course he had gotten it.

Alex didn't like to admit it, but he got sick rather often. Absurdly often. His body simply wasn't made to weather the sub-arctic conditions of a Virginian winter, and it affected his immune system. During the winter months, he could expect to spend at least a collective two to three weeks in bed.

Which made this time so odd – it wasn't winter, it was July. The middle of summer. And summer was his element. He should feel amazing, not like someone had just taken a hammer to his skull. Or set fire to his esophagus. Or sapped him of all energy and the will to at least pretend to get along with people.

Enough was enough. Thomas was always lecturing him about taking better care of himself, and right now he wanted nothing in the world quite as much as to go home, close the blinds, change into his comfy pyjamas, and sleep for roughly three years. He pulled out his cell and texted Samuel to come pick him up early, then texted Thomas to inform him of what was happening. He then packed up his things, locked his office up, let his secretary fuss over how pale he was and how much he looked like shit, then went outside to wait for Samuel.

He didn't wait long. The familiar black Mercedes pulled up to the curb and rolled to a stop. With a sigh of relief, he opened the door and slid in to the cool luxury of the car.

Had he not been feeling poorly, he would have noticed something was wrong the moment he opened the door. Samuel always had a lavender air freshener going, and was usually playing orchestral music with the volume turned down low. This car smelled like leather and Alphas, and had no music. He would have opened the door, noticed the differences, and immediately backed off. It would have been significantly harder to get him into that car without causing a scene, if he hadn't been feeling poorly.

As things stood, however, he felt like shit and was navigating the world in a bit of a haze. The feeling of _something's not right_ didn't hit him until he was closing the car door behind him.

He whipped around, the very little self defense the military had been willing to give an omega surfacing immediately. But it was too little, too late. He hadn't even turned completely before a hood of some sort was suddenly covering his head, blocking out his sight and smell almost completely, and his ankles were being tied together and his hands were being bound behind his back.

* * *

Thomas sat back in his desk chair and frowned at his phone. Poor Alex had been having a rough time these past few days. Perhaps he should make an early day of it himself, go home and comfort his mate. He could pick up an order of Thai food from that place Alex loved on the way, stop at CVS and stock up on painkillers and antacid tablets, then go home and make sure his mate was getting the rest he needed, make sure he was taking his pills, curl up and hold him until he went to sleep …

They'd been bonded for a year and a half now, and this wasn't exactly the first time Alex had gotten sick. Just, for some reason, this time was different. This time, he wanted to coddle his mate, wanted to take care of him and curl up with him in their bed and ...

No. Alex was an adult, and fully capable of taking care of himself. Thomas shot a text back, offering to pick up anything Alex needed on the way home; when he didn't respond, Thomas decided to take it as a good sign, that he was already resting.

The last thing Alex needed right now was a clingy mate hovering over him.

Instead, he would finish out the work day, and go home with the determination to be as quiet as he could so as not to disturb his sick mate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's got Alex? How will Thomas react? What do they want? Find out next chapter!
> 
> Fun fact: I wrote the first part of this chapter on my phone sitting in Tip Top restaurant, waiting for my food to arrive.


	2. The Process

They rode for what felt like years. Alex couldn't see anything but the faintest light coming through the weave of the hood over his head, which was somewhat claustrophobic; and he couldn't smell much of anything, which was downright terrifying.

He could feel, however. And what he felt was two beefy thighs pressed into his own, two shoulders boxing him in. Two Alphas, one on either side of him, making sure he didn't try anything they disapproved of.

What he could possibly do unable to see, and with his hands bound behind him and his ankles tied together, he wasn't quite sure.

So he sat, sandwiched between the two Alphas, faintly smelling them and the dominating scent they were intentionally giving off. They had a pack scent about them, a familial scent that told him that they lived together. Possibly brothers. Probably mated. He found himself wondering who they were and what they wanted with him.

He wondered awhile.

The initial surprise of being abducted, the realization that this wasn't a joke of some sort, the terror of not knowing what his abductors had planned for him, all eventually gave way to boredom. Then, misery. His traitor body hadn't gotten the memo that something more important than itself was going on here, and so his head still ached and his chest still burned.

He began to fidget, trying to find a more comfortable position and also just from sheer boredom. His escorts allowed him a few minutes of squirming before a blow of some sort to the head jacked his headache up to almost unbearable levels. Message received. He sat very still while the throbbing in his head receded back to its original levels of discomfort, before finally just laying back in the seat and trying to relax as best he could.

He was sick, which was the excuse he gave himself. He was sick, and he was bored, and it wasn't like he was going anywhere anyway. It was almost inevitable that he would drift to sleep.

The car engine being turned off woke him an unknown amount of time later.

“Rise and shine,” one of the Alphas teased with the faintest Southern drawl. Not like Thomas' Virginian accent; further South than that.

This was it. They were here, wherever here was. They were going to have to untie his ankles, so that he could walk. If he was going to escape, now was the best time. No, he wouldn't be able to see, or pull the hood off, or feel his way; but he'd figure all that out later. Right now, he had to focus on …

Two hands were suddenly lifting him bodily from the car. He tried to figure out what they were doing, when they would untie his ankles, when the hands simply slung him over someone's shoulder in a modified fireman's carry.

And just like that, all his escape plans went out the window.

They were kind of stupid plans, anyway.

Still, as he felt his mount start to walk, and felt the fresh air suddenly hit his skin, he couldn't help but try and get loose. He bucked suddenly, trying to cause the Alpha carrying him to lose his grip. When that didn't work, he started to struggle, writhe in his bonds, slip free of his captor's grasp. Until a hard slap across the ass reminded him just how vulnerable he was here.

After that, he let them carry him where they would, unresistant. For now.

* * *

When they finally removed the hood, it took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the sudden light. Even once they did, there wasn't much to look at. They were in a public bathroom of some sort, very institutional, like the bathroom of a warehouse or workshop. Chipped tiles and filthy floors made the place feel like it hadn't been used in awhile.

He wasn't complaining, especially when they removed his wrist and ankle restraints.

'They' were three Alphas – the two who had sat to either side of him in the car, that were the largest men of any endotype he had ever seen, and a smaller Alpha whom he was pretty sure had ridden in the front seat. The driver, an omega by the smell of him, was nowhere to be seen.

The two large Alphas led him over to the line of urinals to relieve himself, then back to where the smaller Alpha waited. “Let's do this before the cavalry arrives,” the small Alpha said. Alex had just a split second to wonder what he was talking about, before the two large Alphas were on him.

There was no time to react, or to defend himself. His jacket was gone, then his shoes and socks, then his tie, then his trousers, then his dress shirt, then his boxer briefs, then his undershirt. He was left standing completely nude before he even had time to process that they had moved, in shock while he watched his clothes thrown into a pile in a corner of the room.

Still dazed, he watched one of the big Alphas light the pile on fire, watched one of the beautiful bespoke suits that Thomas had insisted on purchasing for him go up in flames.

Then his left hand was seized, and the feeling of his bonding band being slid off its finger snapped him out of his shock. “No!” he screeched, launching himself at the son of a bitch who would dare take his most prized possession.

He clawed, bit, yanked, whatever it took. Whatever it took to get his ring back. But it made no difference; the only thing his efforts got him was a backhand to the cheek hard enough to send him flying, and a position on the tiled floor to watch his ring go into the fire with everything else.

“Well, that was exciting,” the small Alpha sneered.

One of the giants shrugged. “Has to be done,” he replied.

The two giants were then lifting him off the floor and herding him towards the shower area. They recaptured his hands and chained them in front, then hooked the chain to a lever in the ceiling, forcing him to stand in place with his hands above his head.

The smaller man was there, suddenly, and looked him up and down. Alex flushed at the man's eyes on his naked skin. “Not much to look at, is he?” he mused, almost mournfully.

“Looks like a job to me,” one of the giants chided him. “Professionalism, Murphy.”

Murphy just snorted. “Whatever,” he replied. “Hold him still.”

A giant hand was suddenly in his hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. There was the sound of metal against leather, and something cold and hard was pressed into his clavicle, caressed his cheek, run up and down the skin of his helpless throat. He swallowed, trying to get his breathing under control as he felt the adrenaline surge of sheer terror coursing through his veins.

Taunting. Murphy was taunting him. “What do you want?” he gasped out, just managing to keep his voice from breaking.

Murphy ran the knife down his body, drawing circles on his naked belly with the dull edge of the blade. “We're going to have so much fun, aren't we, Echo?”

The giant holding his head, Echo, just snorted in reply.

The blade ran back up his body, the sharp edge now running along his skin. A sudden flare of pain, as it broke the skin over his collarbone, and he could feel himself start to hyperventilate. The knife moved on, and Murphy's other hand reached up to cup his scalp as the knife bit there. The hand pulled away, the knife moving back down to draw harmless circles around his navel, and Alex heard himself gasping in terror as he waited for the blade to bite again.

It never did. Instead, something soft was rubbed against the scent gland behind his ear, and the knife was sheathed in favor of something plastic. He looked to see a lock of his hair, bloody on the scalp end and undoubtedly reeking of his terror, sealed in the airtight plastic baggy.

Just like that, Murphy lost all interest in him. “I'll be in the car,” the Alpha stated, sounding almost bored. He took one last thoughtful look at Alex, then was suddenly gone.

The hand in his hair released him, and suddenly the horror of what almost happened but didn't rolled over him. He was gasping for air, he couldn't stop it any longer, and he almost welcomed the black spots that filled his vision and washed over his consciousness.

He wasn't out long – just long enough for him to collapse far enough to feel the jarring yank on his wrists as they caught his fall. “Whoa, Little One,” the other giant said. “Don't hurt yourself.” He bit back a laugh at the sheer irony of that sentiment coming from his captors, as he was set back on his feet.

Then, of all the things that could possibly happen next, Echo turned on the shower.

He had turned the showerhead towards the side, so Alex wasn't immediately soaked in numbingly-cold water; a small kindness. Echo held his own hand under the spray and waited for it to warm up sufficiently, then turned it back to drench Alex in a torrent slightly warmer than room temperature.

What followed was the most bizarre shower of his life. Toiletries were product from seemingly nowhere. Echo took his hair, and the other giant took his body, and they both proceeded to clean him completely. They were thorough, causing some awkward moments, but they weren't cruel or harsh. Indeed, they might as well have been washing the car, or bathing the dog, for all they cared about any part of the whole process.

When it was done, he was toweled down with the same dispassionate air.

Finally, finally, the set the towel aside and unchained his hands. He rubbed his wrists, still smarting over the jerk when he passed out, and watched them put everything away in a duffle bag that Alex hadn't noticed.

For a moment, just a moment, something happened that felt unscripted. Echo was smelling the towel they had used on him, frowning. “Victor, smell this,” he commanded the other.

Victor, who had been making sure Alex didn't try anything, took the towel from Echo to scent it. Alex thought about trying to run, nude or not, but Echo automatically turned to watch him while Victor was distracted.

Victor grunted in reply to whatever he smelled on the towel, and handed it back to Echo without a word.

Echo stuffed the towel into the duffle, then came out with a bundle he handed to Alex. Alex unfolded it to find clothes. Grateful, so grateful he chittered softly before he could help himself, he climbed into the oversized sweatpants and tee that had been given him.

The grateful feeling didn't last long. As soon as he was dressed, the pair moved to bind him again. “Sorry, Little One,” Victor muttered as he tied Alex's hands behind his back, while Echo tied his ankles. Alex fought back a moan when the hood went back on his damp head.

Instead of the fireman's carry they had used earlier, suddenly he was being cradled bridal style. The position was awkward with his hands tied behind him, but whichever of the pair was carrying him didn't seem fazed in the least. The thought to struggle out of the hold came and went – they had him helpless, and there was nothing he could do but wait to see what happened next.

He didn't wait long. “Took you long enough,” Murphy grumbled as they gently laid him in the backseat of the car.

His captors ignored the statement from the smaller Alpha. “We may have a problem,” Echo informed him.

“Wonderful.” Murphy spat sarcastically. “What is it?”

“The Little One is pregnant.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to those who guessed that Alex is pregnant!


	3. The Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a bit early because we're having a bad storm, and I want to make sure it gets up before we lose power/internet.

The first indication that something was wrong was when he got into the car with Samuel.

“Sorry you had to drive into the District and back twice in one afternoon,” Thomas apologized. Washington D.C. famously had some of the worst traffic in the country, second only to Los Angeles. Having to sit through that twice in one day was bad enough; navigating it three times in a single day was enough to make anyone upset.

But Samuel didn't look upset. In fact, he looked confused. “I've only done the trip once today,” he told Thomas. “Once when driving you and Mr. Hamilton in, and now driving you out.”

Now it was Thomas' turn to be confused. “Mr. Hamilton went home early,” he told the driver. “Maybe he took the Metro?” That wasn't like the omega, though; he had come to accept and even appreciate being driven around. Maybe he had reverted to old habits while feeling poorly?

“I thought he liked my driving?” Samuel had apparently decided to take Alex's use of public transportation personally.

“He's pretty sick, Samuel,” Thomas tried to soothe the man's ego.

When they reached the townhouse that Thomas shared with Alex, he went into his home office instead of going into the bedroom to change, so as not to disturb his sick mate. But Alex not having Samuel drive him home nagged at Thomas. Something wasn't right.

Fuck it, he decided. He'd just peek in. Not enough to wake him, just enough to see for himself that everything was alright.

Far from alright, the room was empty. The bed stood made up, complete with decorative pillows. Nobody had been in it for quite some time.

Perhaps he had decided to lay down in a different room, so as not to be disturbed when Thomas came home? Thomas went back downstairs and stopped the first member of his staff that he found, an omega named Alejandra who cleaned the house and did any small repairs needed. “Do you know where Alex is?” he asked the woman.

Alejandra frowned back at him. “I haven't seen Mr. Hamilton since he left with you this morning,” she told him.

Thomas could have sworn his heart stopped, just for a moment. “He didn't come home early?” he asked her, just to make sure.

“No, Senator, he didn't,” she said. “Was he supposed to?”

Thomas swore under his breath, then pulled out his phone. Alex's number went straight to voicemail. He exited the phone app, and navigated to a secondary screen. He had an app for the security systems, both here and at Monticello, installed. He pulled up the times the front door had opened between noon and six, when he himself had come home, only to see that the front door hadn't opened once during those times. Maybe Alex had come in the back door? The garage was out back, as well as parking for his staff, and it tended to be the door they used, but maybe Alex had used it himself for some reason? He pulled up the back door, to find it had been opened only three times. A quick viewing of the security footage for all three times showed the assistant cook leaving the house, the head cook leaving as well forty five minutes later, and then both men coming back in with groceries.

That was all. No Alex.

He was pulling up the number for the Treasury Building almost before he realized what he was doing. The after hours receptionist answered on the third ring, patched him through to security – who, fortunately, recognized Thomas' voice – only for security to tell him that, yes, Mr. Secretary left at 12:57 that afternoon.

Thomas thanked the man and hung up. Then thought. What could possibly have detained Alex? What could possibly have been important enough, that he would put it above his own comfort and health? And make him lose track of time so thoroughly?

Washington picked up on the third ring. “Thomas,” he sighed. “Don't tell me that Alexander's bad habits are rubbing off on you, now.”

“Actually, Alex's the reason I'm calling,” Thomas replied, trying not to let the panic he was just barely keeping pushed down from leaking into his voice. “Is there any chance he's there with you? Maybe you had some kind of special project you needed his help on?”

“No,” Washington answered simply. “Other than my reelection campaign and the Omega Healthcare Act we've been working on, I have nothing going at the moment. That's quite enough for now, thank you. Why? What crazy scheme has our omega been up to?”

“Nothing, no schemes. He left home in the middle of the day, sick, but didn't make it home. His phone's off, and no one seems to know where he's gone off to.”

“What does his security detail say?” Washington asked pragmatically.

Security detail? “What security detail?” Thomas asked himself, confused.

There was silence on the other line for a full five seconds. “Thomas, Alexander is the Secretary of the Treasury,” Washington replied. “As such, his safety is the responsibility of the Secret Service.”

Thomas paused himself, thinking. “George, I've been bonded to Alex for eighteen months now,” he said. “In that time, I've not once seen or talked to anyone who's identified themselves as Secret Service or acted like they were looking out for Alex's safety, nor has anyone come into our home that isn't a guest or a paid member of my staff.”

There was another long period of silence, before Thomas heard what sounded suspiciously like Washington cursing under his breath. “That damn Director,” he muttered.

“What does that mean?” Thomas asked, the panic starting to show in his voice. “What damn Director?”

“The Director of the Secret Service, William Clemson. Director Clemson is prejudice against omegas, and was quite hesitant to offer protection for one who wasn't a mate or child but an official himself. I thought the matter handled. Thomas, you have to believe me, I never would have thought that it had been handled this way! If I had known, I would have stepped in long before this!”

“I believe you,” Thomas said, and found that he meant it.

“Where are you? At your townhouse? I'm coming over. This is Alexander we're talking about; he probably got feeling better and wandered off to the Library to work, and has lost track of time.”

“You're probably right,” Thomas replied, and found that he didn't mean it that time.

“Look. I'm coming over. I'll be there in fifteen. Stay there, and keep calling that cell!”

* * *

Pregnant? “I'm not pregnant!” Alex insisted, although the authoritative tone of his voice was ruined by the way the hood muffled it.

No one paid him any mind, anyway. “Are you sure?” Murphy asked, an edge of something in his voice.

There was no reply; no verbal one, at least. His hood lifted, just a little, so that a hand could reach in and rub something cloth against his scent gland.

He was really getting tired of people rubbing things against his scent glands.

The hand and cloth retreated, and the hood was put back in place. For several moments, nothing happened. He assumed that Murphy was scenting the cloth he had been given. Then … “This is wonderful,” Murphy's voice broke through the silence suddenly. “This isn't a problem; this is perfect.”

“Says the man not in charge of keeping the pregnant omega healthy and pregnant,” muttered one of the giants flanking him – Victor, he thought.

Whichever one it was, he was ignored. “The Senator is going to have kittens himself when he learns his little mate is preggers.”

“ _I'm not pregnant!!!_ ” Alex thundered. Or tried to, at least. The hood completely ruined the effect.

A hand patted his knee. “It's fine,” Echo said. “You'll be home long before the baby is born.”

“Not pregnant,” he muttered to himself. He couldn't be pregnant. He and Thomas were very careful. Very, very careful. And he couldn't be pregnant with their first child. Not here. Not in a strange car, tied and with a hood over his head, on his way to God-knows-where …

“Delta has to go pick up prenatal supplements at the drugstore now, anyway,” Victor butted in on his thoughts. “We'll just have him pick up a pack of pregnancy tests while he's there.”

Pregnancy tests. A clear line, telling him conclusively that he was carrying their child. No room for denial, no room for doubt. Sure proof.

From the front seat, Murphy laughed. “Then we'll send the results to the Senator,” he gloated.

He was going to be sick.

He bent over, trying to put his head between his knees. A hand lifted the bottom of the hood, just enough so that he could see the floorboard of the car he was riding in, as well as the bag that suddenly appeared at the ready. A third hand rubbed his back soothingly.

 


	4. The Search

“Yes, hello? This is Senator Jefferson. I was just calling to talk to my mate, Secretary Hamilton. Is he by any chance at your facility? I'll hold.”

“Hello, this is George Washington. Yes, that George Washington. Son, I've been trying to contact the mate of a friend of mine. Did you by any chance see an omega come into your store, short, goatee, brunet hair? No? Thank you for your time.”

They'd been doing this all evening. Calling anywhere and everywhere they could think of – libraries, hospitals, stores, restaurants, clinics, parks, anywhere that Alex might have been. But every time, it was the same thing.

“No, haven't seen him.”

“Nobody here by that name.”

“Sorry, the Secretary hasn't been by today.”

“Thomas.”

Washington's voice broke into Thomas' thoughts. He ignored him. The next person who answered the phone might be able to tell him something. Might know where Alex was. He pulled up the phone app on his cell again, and cursed when he realized just how low its battery had gotten.

“Thomas.”

George was only trying to help. “What?” he replied, careful not to bite it out like he wanted to.

“It's time we got the Secret Service involved.”

“I'm pretty sure this entire mess is the Secret Service's fault.” That wasn't fair – they didn't know where Alex was, why he had gone missing, and the Secret Service might not have been able to do anything about his disappearance. Even if they could, it wasn't the entire agency's fault, just the director. However, Thomas didn't feel like being fair at the moment.

Washington didn't bother replying to Thomas' statement, which was probably for the best. “They have resources that we don't.”

Thomas pulled up Alex's cell in his contacts for the billionth time that evening, and hit connect. Both men expected to hear Alex's voice telling them to leave a message immediately, so both men were shocked when the phone started ringing.

“He's realized the time,” Thomas cheered. “He just holed up somewhere, and lost track of time. He's realized and turned on his phone, and is probably even now-”

“Yes?” a voice answered. A young, male voice. A young, male voice that definitely didn't belong to Alex.

“Yes, hello? I'm looking for Alex. This is his phone? Is he right there?”

“Man, I found this phone! It was just laying on the ground. Your fool Alex dropped it, and it's mine now!”

Dropped it? “Yes, okay, the phone's yours. You can have it, I'll even give you access!” It was no loss; all Alex's contacts and photos were stored in the cloud, anyway. On his PC, Thomas called up the website to erase the phone's data remotely, to restore it to factory settings. “Just tell me where you found it!”

Silence on the other line. Then: “... Yeah, alright. I found it in front of the McDonald's on 13th Street.”

“13th Street Northwest?”

“You know any other 13th Streets around?”

“Yes, of course, you're right. Thank you so mu-!” The line was dead before he could finish the sentence.

It didn't matter; he had what he needed. He hit the “Erase Alex's Phone” button, then hit it again to confirm. Let the kid have the phone; it was more than worth it. He was dialing that McDonald's before the webpage even finished loading.

“Thomas.”

Again, Thomas ignored George. “Hello, yes!” he greeted the woman who answered the phone. “I'm looking for my mate. Male omega, short, brunet, goatee … No one? Are you sure? Can you just check again? … Oh. Well, thank you very much.”

He hit the “End” button, then slapped the phone down on the desk with a snarl. The Otterbox case on the phone made it bounce just slightly under his palm, making the gesture incredibly satisfying. He picked the phone up and slammed it down again on the desk, and again and again.

A hand on his own stopped him from pounding the phone down yet again. The door to the study suddenly burst open – George's security detail had heard the ruckus and were investigating. Thomas didn't even look up as Washington reassured the men that everything was fine, just stared down at the phone in his hand. The case had done its job well – except for a small crack in the corner of the screen that was probably in the screen protector instead of the screen itself, there was absolutely no damage to the device. “I should write a review,” Thomas mumbled to no one in particular.

“I'm involving the Secret Service,” George replied. “Please, Thomas.”

Involving the Secret Service meant it was official. Meant that this wasn't just a misunderstanding, that Alex wasn't just going to walk through the door and be surprised that Thomas had forgotten that he would be running an errand or seeing a friend all evening, or apologize sheepishly for letting time get the best of him. Meant that, officially, Something Had Gone Wrong.

“Okay,” Thomas all but whispered.

He listened halfheartedly as George stepped to the side and made a call very different from the ones they had been making all evening. He took a deep breath, ran his thumb over the new crack in his phone's screen, and wondered where the fuck Alex had gotten off to.

* * *

Coincidentally enough, at that exact moment, Alex himself was wondering the exact same thing.

They had parked the car again, and again he had been scooped up instead of untied. He was cradled in his captor's arms, feeling the rocking motion of his mount's steps, and realized why they weren't carrying him across their shoulder any longer.

Because of the baby.  _The baby that didn't exist_ , he reminded himself. Still, just in case they were right, now was the time to do something to escape. Before they locked him away in whatever cage they had prepared. Before they expected him to do something.

Because he knew something that they didn't – he knew that the rope around his ankle had come loose. Not a lot; not enough to notice. But enough that if he timed it right, scissored his legs just a little in time with each step …

The knot gave suddenly. Alex, who had been waiting for this exact moment, suddenly threw himself up into his captor's chin. The man dropped him with a curse; Alex rolled onto his feet, picked a direction at random, and took off at a dead sprint.

Of course, he could barely see anything. There was a bright light somewhere, probably coming from some sort of flood light or street light, and the intense illumination allowed him to see somewhat through the weave of the fabric of his hood. But not anything definite.

A shape suddenly appeared in front of him, grabbing for him, and he saw it just in time to dodge its hands. Another hand landed on his shoulder, and he twisted out of it and kept running.

In the future, he would be pleased with just how far he got before the inevitable recapture. At the time, however, the hands that suddenly had a firm grip on the fabric of his tee felt like the worst defeat. He tried to slip out of the garment, but with his hands still tied it was futile. Just the attempt slowed him down long enough for reinforcements to arrive, and it was all over.

Strong hands were suddenly lifting him by the armpits, while a large shape approached from in front of him. “No, no!” he shrieked, and attempted to kick the shape away. But his captors were expecting the struggle, and his feet were easily caught. His legs were forced together, and what felt like a chain was wrapped around them from ankles to knees.

“Now, Little One,” the shape holding him – Victor – chided. “Careful. Think of the baby.”

“Slippery little bitch, isn't he?” Murphy huffed. “I was under the impression that you two were capable of handling one undersized omega.”

“He's here, ain't he?” Echo responded, now finished wrapping Alex's legs together. He started to help Alex back into Victor's grasp; but Alex was having none of it. He kicked and screeched, twisted in Victor's arms, anything he could think of to get free!

“Jesus Christ, use the chloroform or something!” Murphy hissed at the other two Alphas.

“Not with the baby,” Victor reminded him, tightening his hold on Alex.

Alex kicked. He bucked. He twisted his body. He headbutted in the general direction of his captor's face. He drove his elbows back into his captor's stomach. He screeched every insult he could think of at them.

It didn't matter. Victor might as well have been made of titanium, for all the good Alex's efforts did. Except for one muttered “language!” at a particularly vulgar insult, Alex was carried inevitably where his captors wanted him to go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one point while I was writing this chapter, I went to google whether it would harm an unborn fetus if the mother got chloroformed, even getting so far as opening a new tab and navigating to Google, before I stopped and thought, _really_ thought, about what I was about to add to my search history. Its bad enough that I've been googling all kinds of stuff about the Secret Service, and if they protect the Secretary of the Treasury, and exactly where the Treasury Building is located.


	5. The Cell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starring Jennifer Lopez as Alexander Hamilton, and Vincent D'Onofrio as Murphy!

It occurred to him, after his voice had given out and his strikes had turned more feeble than angry, that it might be a good idea to pay attention to where they were going. He stilled, earning a “finally” from Victor and a “stubborn bitch” from Murphy.

They were in an elevator going down. He could tell that much, even through the hood and without his feet on the ground. So he paid attention as they exited the elevator and began to walk. He mentally noted when they took a left-hand turn and when they went through a door. He listened to the electronic beeps as they entered a code, and the double beep as the code was accepted and the door swung open. He paid attention as they greeted someone – another Alpha, by the smell of him – and entered another code to go through another door. And, finally, finally, when they set him down.

He must not have been the first unwilling visitor that they had brought here that didn't come quietly, because Echo admonished him “no biting” as he took the hood off his head. Alex blinked a few times in the bright fluorescent lights to let his eyes adjust, then looked around to see where he was.

He was in a cell of some sort, that was sure. The floor, ceiling, and three of the walls were constructed of polished concrete and uninterrupted by anything other than a vent in the ceiling and a drain in the center of the floor. There was no window, which supported the general feeling that he had that they were underground. The fourth wall was made of some clear material, probably acrylic or plastic. The view outside of his cell had just a slight distortion, just enough to tell him that the acrylic was probably several inches thick. He wouldn't be breaking through it any time soon. Set in the center of the wall was a door, made of the same material, and with a keypad to disengage the lock. Along the top of the clear wall, holes about the size of a quarter had been drilled in the acrylic, likely to allow air movement. The door, the air holes, the vent in the ceiling, and the drain in the floor were the only openings out of the room.

He looked outside the cell. An Alpha sat at a table with a deck of cards. Lined up along the table were four pistols and four cell phones. The Alpha – likely the one that they had greeted before entering the cell – saw him looking, and wiggled his fingers in a sarcastic wave. The room was made of the same polished concrete as the other walls of his cell, and that material was all he could see – the door to enter the room was out of sight.

He turned his attention to the cell itself. He was sitting on a bed, a dorm room castoff. The bed was draped in a comforter set with a cheery floral pattern, with matching sheets, that looked well-worn and comfortable. A small table was built into the wall on one side, with a stool that was bolted to the floor beside it. On the other side was a toilet with a built in sink. Oddly enough, there was a television set sitting on a shelf behind the same acrylic material, where he couldn't get to it, on the opposite wall from the bed. He might not be able to touch it, but he could certainly use it; the matching remote control was sitting on the table, beside a deck of cards.

Overall, the cell resembled nothing more than a cross between a prison cell and a dorm room.

“Why the TV?” he asked the two giants, who, along with Murphy, had been watching him take in his surroundings.

“Keeps you from doing something stupid,” Victor drawled. “We've found that our, ah, guests who aren't provided with entertainment get bored. Bored leads to thinking. Thinking leads to stupid escape attempts that do nothing but get you hurt. Then what will we do when Murphy needs proof of life?”

“Better just to let you watch _Judge Judy_ ,” Echo agreed.

Alex looked back at the TV, then looked around his cell and back at the Alpha outside, only to look back up at the three men hovering over him. “Who are you people?!” he hissed in exacerbation.

“And that's my cue to leave,” Murphy said. “I'll check in in a couple of days, or sooner if the Senator is feeling especially motivated to get his piece of ass back.” He walked over to the door; Alex tried not to make it obvious that he was looking, but Murphy was too sly to enter the six-digit code so that Alex could see it. Instead, all he could do was listen to the six beeps followed by the double beep in frustration.

Murphy suddenly stopped and turned around. “Oh, and guys? No fucking the bitch. I ain't paying you to get your dick wet.” He winked at Alex. “Save that for if the Senator needs some persuading.”

With a final tip of an imaginary hat, and a quick trip to the table to snag one of the pistols and cell phones, he was gone.

“I hate that man,” Echo rumbled to himself. Alex didn't think that he was meant to hear it.

“You've had a long day,” Victor said to Alex, ignoring his mate. “Here.” He reached down and untied Alex's legs, then did the same for his hands. Alex brought them around to his front and began massaging the wrists. “Get dressed.” A pair of pyjamas were laid on the bed beside him.

He stood up and began to strip, only to remember that he wasn't wearing anything under the tee and sweatpants. “A little privacy, please?” he demanded.

Neither Alpha was impressed. “My nose still hurts from your last escape attempt,” Victor stated rather matter-of-factly.

Fine. Alex stripped out of his shirt and replaced it with the pyjama top, then did the same for his pants. He ducked his head to hide the small blush that fanned his cheeks.

They had him lay on the bed, then closed a shackle around his ankle that was bolted via a chain to the bed frame. Someone had been kind enough to pad the shackle and wind a strip of cloth through the links of the chain, so they wouldn't make noise and rouse him from all the sleep he was sure he was going to be getting.

This task finished, Victor went to the door, but Echo walked to the head of the bed. Alex watched, suspiciously, as he bent over the prone omega. Oddly enough, he touched his nose to Alex's scent gland, inhaled deeply, then stood back up and walked over to where Victor was waiting.

They left him, then, and closed the door before walking out of view. Amazingly enough, he heard six beeps followed by a double beep coming from somewhere to the left of his cell, followed by a conversation he could barely hear and couldn't make out. It struck him suddenly that there must be other cells connecting to the room with the Alpha and the table like his did, and that at least one of them must hold another prisoner. He wasn't the only person being held against their will in this … place.

He came out of his musing to find the strange Alpha watching him. He grinned at Alex, a toothy grin, before going back to his cards. This Alpha, he realized, must be a guard or warden of some sort.

Victor and Echo came back where he could see them only once, to gather two of the pistols and cell phones on the table, before muttering something to the Alpha with the cards and walking back out of view.

The lights in his cell suddenly went out, and the lights in the room beyond were dimmed. Bedtime, he supposed, and wondered what time it was.

He reached for the remote and turned the TV on. Or, at least, tried to. He aimed the remote at the TV and hit the power button again, but nothing happened. He slapped the remote against his palm a few times, then tried again; when that didn't work, he opened the back panel and took the batteries out, switched them, and put them back in.

“No telly after lights out,” the Alpha at the table said, loud enough that it carried through the air holes.

Great. So much for not wanting him to get bored, he supposed. He could try and play cards, but the light was too dim to really see them by. With nothing better to do, he lay on the bed.

His mind raced, trying to process everything that had happened. Who were these people, and what did they want with him? What did they want with Thomas? What the hell did Murphy mean, when he said not to fuck him until Thomas needed persuading? Who else was trapped here? Why did Echo scent him before leaving?

Was he really pregnant? What would he do if he was? Did he have an obligation to Thomas' child to escape at all costs, or do as he was told so as to prevent injury? If he was duty-bound to escape, how would he perform such a feat?

If he couldn't, if he was stuck here for days and weeks and months, would it really be so bad if he was to lose the baby? Thomas' baby?

He stared at the patterns in the ceiling, turning those thoughts over and over, for what felt like hours; but with no clock he had no way to know for sure. Eventually, from sheer exhaustion, he somehow found his way to sleep.

 


	6. Two Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had a chance to use this yet in this series, but it's always been a part of my design for this A/B/O 'verse: scenting with a person you've just met. Basically, you grab their right hand like you're going to shake hands, but instead pull each other in so that you're almost touching chest to chest. Then you put your face to the right of theirs, put your nose by their left ear/neck, and inhale. Think European-style air kissing, but with inhaling instead of kissing. It's how you politely learn a person's scent, and is as common and socially acceptable as shaking hands is to us.

When Thomas came downstairs the next morning, he found that his home had been turned into a command center of sorts. Men and women, mostly Alphas, milled around his living room, while several laptops and a map were spread out over the dining room table.

Washington was in the kitchen, talking with a woman. He was wearing a clean suit and was freshly shaved and showered, but looked like he had gotten about as much sleep as Thomas himself had. “Thomas,” Washington greeted him. “May I introduce Director Debbie Sampson?”

“Director Sampson,” Thomas greeted her, and held out his hand. She took it, and they scented with each other – placed their nose by the other person's left ear and inhaled their personal scent, a common greeting.

“Sampson is the new Director of the Secret Service,” George explained.

“And may I say, I found it reprehensible what my predecessor did, and how it has impacted your family,” she said. “We have agents, both from the Secret Service and from other branches of law enforcement, all over D.C. looking for any trace of your mate.”

“Thank you,” Thomas said automatically, letting his eyes drift over the multitudes in his tiny townhouse. “And congratulations on your promotion.”

“I'm not worry about that right now, Senator,” she responded. Surprised, Thomas turned back to find an unyielding expression on her face. “Right now, I'm worried about finding out where our Secretary of the Treasury has disappeared to.”

“Please,” Thomas responded in a voice almost a whimper. “Please find him.”

Sampson smiled, not at all unkindly. “It's what I aim to do,” she said. “Now, President Washington tells me that his cellphone was found in front of the McDonald's on 13th Street?”

“That's the last place we know he's been,” he supplied.

“Did he frequent that McDonald's? Or any other location in that area?”

Thomas thought carefully, then shook his head, no. “Alex is all about convenience,” he admitted. “If he couldn't buy it in the Treasury Building's cafeteria, he did without.”

“So we have no reason to believe he was actually at that McDonald's? Alright. Our first priority is going to be contacting the press. We'll set up a press conference, and tell the country that he's missing. The more eyes looking for him, the better. And if his disappearance is from a human source, it may put the pressure on them to let him go, knowing that the nation's law enforcement agencies are looking for him.”

A human source. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't something that had crossed his mind, but never quite this seriously. Especially when his eyes landed on the box of protein bars, out on the counter, ready for … “His next heat is scheduled to hit any day now,” he told them.

He saw both George and Sampson visibly wince. Alphas kidnapping omegas in heat off the streets was something that belonged in the history books, or in period dramas. The days of harem-building warlords were long gone. But, put the right Alpha, in the right place, at the right time, with the right omega, under the right circumstances … well, instinct and biology didn't care about things like the law or human rights. Things did happen. Even if his disappearance had nothing to do with being in heat, if he was being held by human captors, the chances were great that they'd have at least one Alpha amongst them. An Alpha who cared so little for others that he'd kidnap another, put in a position of power over an omega, only for that omega go into heat, was a recipe for something very tragic to happen.

“If … that happens,” Sampson assured him, “we'll find him, and we'll help him through the aftermath. But until we know for sure-”

“Excuse me, sir,” Abraham said, coming seemingly out of nowhere. “I'm very sorry to interrupt, but this came in the mail this morning.”

Thomas accepted the envelope from Abraham, puzzled. It had his name and address hand-written on the front, but no return address. It was interesting, he supposed, but nothing to interrupt something so important over. He was about to ask Abraham to explain himself, when he realized that the envelope smelled very faintly of Alex.

With shaking hands, he broke the seal, and shook the contents of the envelope out onto the countertop of the kitchen island.

A piece of paper fell out, but more intriguing was the Ziploc baggie with something dark in it. It took several seconds for Thomas' brain to accept what it was that he was looking at – a lock of brunet hair, tied in a knot so it would stay together, dotted with blood.

He reached for the baggie, but George was faster. “You don't want to do that to yourself,” George assured him hollowly. “Let me.” At Thomas' nod, George broke the seal and put his nose to the opening. And visibly recoiled from what he smelled.

Thomas' hand had grabbed the baggie from George before he quite realized what he had done. He just knew that he had to know, he had to know for certain. He put his own nose to the seal and inhaled, then couldn't stop the wail that broke free from his mouth unbidden. The baggie smelled of terror and pain and horror and blood and Alex Alex Alex. Alex terrified, Alex in pain, Alex's blood, Alex's suffering, Alex-

Then the baggie was gone, and Sampson was sealing it tight so the smell of Alex's misery could no longer escape. She opened the first kitchen drawer she could reach, shoved the baggie inside, and slammed the drawer shut. “Am I to understand that that was your mate's hair in the baggie?” she asked softly. Thomas could only nod in response. “Then let's hear what those responsible have to say for themselves.”

And she picked the note up off the counter.

* * *

It was the lights that woke Alex in the morning. One minute, it was just as dark as it had been all night, locked in perpetual twilight; then, suddenly, it was bright as day, as the lights in his cell were turned on. He flinched away from their fluorescent glow and moaned, then grasped for Thomas to make him turn off the light. But his hand only found air.

It was a surprisingly long amount of time before anyone showed up at his cell door, long enough for him to almost drift back to sleep even with the lights. “Good morning, Little One,” Echo said cheerfully. “I hope your first night as our guest was restful?”

“Fuck off,” Alex mumbled into the pillow.

“Now, now, what have we said about language?” Victor asked, pulling the comforter out of his grasp. “Besides, we have a surprise for you.” A plastic shopping bag was shaken in his face.

The noise was enough to bring Alex fully awake, and remind him where he was and what he was doing there. “What is it?” he asked, eyeing the bag like he was waiting for it to jump from Victor's hand and bite him.

Instead of answering, Victor dumped the bag into his lap. Alex sat up the rest of the way, and opened it, to find boxes of pregnancy tests. “We got three, just in case the first one was a false negative,” Victor explained.

Alex didn't reply; he couldn't. He just stared at the boxes, horrified of what they were and what they meant. And what was about to happen.

He didn't have long to wait. Impatient, the two Alphas manhandled him out of bed and forced him over to the cell's toilet. Echo stood behind him, blocking him so that he couldn't move, while Victor carefully put on a pair of medical gloves. Only once the gloves were in place did he open the first box, pull out the test, place it over the toilet bowl, and look at Alex expectantly.

Alex sneered at him. “You can't be serious,” he bit out.

“If you need Echo to hold it for you, he will,” Victor sneered right back.

It hardly mattered. They could hold whatever they wanted, but Alex wasn't peeing. They could play rushing water sound effects for all he cared. They couldn't force him to urinate.

“We could use a catheter,” Victor suggested pointedly.

Or maybe they could.

Part of him wanted to bite back that, yes, that's what they were going to have to do. But catheters were painful, and the end result was the same. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of the pyjama pants and did as he was asked. Victor took the cap off the test, placed the absorbent tip in the stream, then put the cap back on. Alex finished, then put himself to rights.

“That's done,” Victor said, putting the test on the table to set. “While we wait for results, let's get you ready for the day.”

They cuffed his wrists behind his back before escorting him out of the cell. Victor actually put his hand over Alex's eyes while Echo keyed in the code to the door. “What, no hood?” he asked sarcastically, earning himself a slap on the back of his head and the return of yesterday's headache.

The room connected to his cell, come to find out, was longer than it was wide; Alex could only see a portion of it from his cell. Out of the door, they took a right, passing another empty cell; he looked behind them, to see two others. So four in total. The opposite end of the room was also the location of the elevator. He made a mental note of that.

'Getting ready for the day' was code for the prison version of the normal morning routine. They passed through a door and into a shower room that looked like something out of a gym, minus the lockers. And without any curtains on the showers themselves. He counted it a victory that he was at least uncuffed and allowed to wash himself, even if they watched him the entire time. What he could do with a bottle of two-in-one shampoo/conditioner, a bottle of shower gel, and a wash rag, he wasn't sure.

Afterward, he was cuffed again and escorted over to the sinks. If he was trusted to wash, he was absolutely not trusted to shave; Echo held him still while Victor ran the razor over his stubble. They shaved off his goatee – easier for them, he suspected. He was considering getting rid of it anyway.

Then, he was given another set of sweatpants, a tee, and a sweatshirt. He appreciated the extra warmth – the cells were chilly. They also fit him much better than the first set.

They let him run a brush through his hair before securing his hands behind his back again, and heading back to his cell.

He hadn't noticed both men gathering their cellphones and pistols before, but he noticed them putting them back on the table. They must have a rule about phones and guns in the cells.

Echo went over to look at the test, then sat on his bed and pulled him into his lap, undoing the cuffs in the process. Alex cringed at the close contact, and cringed even more when the Alpha pulled up his sweatshirt to rub at his belly. Then the meaning behind the gesture sunk in, and he was gasping for breath.

Victor still had his cellphone, he noted in the back of his mind. Victor still had his cellphone, and he had it out, as he handed the test to Alex with gloved hands.

Sitting there, with Echo's hand on his stomach and Victor snapping pics on his phone, Alex looked at the test that would determine the rest of his life.

Two lines. Two clear, solid, blue lines. He was pregnant.

“Congratulations,” Echo said into his ear while Victor arranged them so that the test results faced the camera. Alex stared dumbly at the phone, listened to the shutter sound play again and again, and tasted bile in the back of his mouth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are just spiraling out of control for both our boys, aren't they? Alex has hit rock bottom, or at least is very close, but Thomas has a ways to fall yet.
> 
> An internet cookie for the first person who can spot the historical reference!
> 
> What do you guys think about these two bombshells?


	7. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say that Alex had hit rock bottom last chapter? I ~~lied~~ decided to go in a different direction.

 “I don't understand what they want from me!”

“None of us do, Senator. We'll find out tomorrow.”

Thomas paced back and forth in the kitchen. He couldn't seem to stop moving – hands grasping at the air or tapping his legs, feet wiggling in their shoes, arms crossing and uncrossing across his body. Nothing made sense; the perfect life he and Alex had made, the life he had just yesterday, seemed to be a dream he had had once.

“What about the press?” he asked, desperate. “Didn't you say that it would be good if more people were looking for him?”

“Originally, yes,” Sampson replied. “But now that we've received his captor's demands, seeing Alex on the news will only anger them.”

Their demands. Thomas looked back at the piece of paper on the counter. He couldn't read it from this angle, but he didn't have to; he had memorized exactly what it said with the first reading.

> _We have your omega. We will call you tomorrow evening. If you ever want to see your omega alive again, you will answer the phone and you will follow our instructions. Disobey, and the omega pays in blood._
> 
> _\- Murphy_

“Why wait until tomorrow evening? Why not this evening? Or the morning?”

Sampson stepped out of the way of a team from Homeland Security before answering. “They're trying to put you on edge. Give you time to worry. Throw you off your game.” She smiled gently. “Is there any way you can occupy yourself until they call?”

Not as agitated as he was feeling. He wouldn't be able to focus.

“We're taking this very seriously, Senator,” Sampson assured him. “These people haven't just kidnapped your mate; they've kidnapped the Secretary of the United States Treasury. I'm not a lawyer, but I have no doubt that a case may be made in court for terrorism, if not treason.”

* * *

“Congratulations” Echo said again, his hand still on his stomach. Alex tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to pull away to. He was sitting practically on the Alpha's lap.

He looked up. Victor was watching them with a strange expression on his face. Not mad, as Alex would have expected. More … fond, almost. Alex appealed with his eyes for him to stop this madness, but Victor didn't seem to understand what he was asking.

Then Echo nosed at his scent gland, and the feeling of the man's breath against such a sensitive part of his body sent a wave of pure pleasure spiking through his body. Thomas knew that he was especially sensitive there and often took advantage of that knowledge; the gasp he made was purely out of habit. Unfortunately, Echo didn't know that. Emboldened, the hand resting on his stomach started to drift further down.

“Excuse me,” Alex said, squirming out of Echo's grasp before his hand could reach its target. “I am bonded, and your mate is standing right there.”

“Alright,” Echo drawled, making the word sound like it was all vowels. Alex suppressed a shutter at the accent, so like Thomas' and so not. “I'll be right back.” And with that promise, both men left his cell.

Alex slumped back, and looked up to find the guard Alpha smirking at him. The man saw him looking, and made an incredibly crude gesture that Alex sincerely hoped wasn't an indication of what the Alpha thought might happen later.

He hoped that they would take his condition into consideration, and the reminder that he was pregnant kicked him in the teeth. There was no denying it now; Alex knew for a fact, as part of instructions on prenatal care that had been drilled into him as an omega almost since birth, that there could be false negatives but there were never any false positives with pregnancy tests. If the test said he was pregnant, than he was pregnant.

He wasn't going to have Thomas' first child here, that much was certain. And he wasn't going to stick around for his captors' odd possessive streak to mature into something less pleasant. He was going to get out, as soon as he saw an opportunity.

He turned around again, to see the Alpha sitting at his table, studying him thoughtfully.

As promised, Echo returned a few minutes later, alone, with a tray of food. It was a breakfast to make any obstetrician happy – scrambled eggs, a carton of yogurt, a slice of lightly-buttered wheat toast, and a glass of orange juice. Beside the plate was a small pile of pills, which he was surprised to see included his prescription medications, and one he didn't recognize – undoubtedly the promised prenatal multivitamin.

His mind kept replaying that pregnancy test over and over, seeing those two blue lines. The thought of eating anything made him queasy.

“You're going to have to eat, Little One,” Echo cut into his thoughts. “Hunger strikes are one thing Victor and I won't tolerate.”

They undoubtedly didn't. Just like they undoubtedly had methods of forcing him to eat. With a sigh, he picked up the fork and speared a bite of egg.

When he was finished, Echo walked over to the table. Alex assumed he was going to take the tray, but instead he leaned over Alex and bent down to once again nose at the gland behind his ear. His hand came up to gently stroke Alex's cheek once, twice. Then he picked up the tray and was gone.

He had to get out of here. The thought kept passing through his mind, again and again, replaying over and over like a catchy song on the radio. It wasn't just his life he was desperate to save, but his child's as well. He had to get out of here.

Echo entered the code to the door and swung it open. Alex's eye went quickly to the table in the room beyond his cell; the Alpha there had gotten up and left when Echo had entered his cell, possibly to relieve himself, possibly to give Echo some privacy. The thought chilled him to the bone, but the fact still remained that it left the way open for him.

There was nothing premeditated about his actions, or even planned. He simply saw an opportunity and took it. Before Echo could walk through the door Alex was there, shoving him down and back. If Echo had been paying attention, it never would have worked. As it was, however, Echo had his mind full of soft and sweet omega and his hands full of the tray. He fell back, and the tray flipped over his head, further adding to the chaos. Echo was up in a split second, alert and ready to act; but that split second had been all Alex needed. He closed the door, locking Echo inside, and took off for the elevator at a dead sprint.

And for a glorious moment, it appeared that his plan had worked. Echo quickly entered the code to reopen the door, of course, but the time it took for him to go through the process gave Alex all the head start he needed. Victor was in the other cell, hovering over the other prisoner, but was too slow to react to the sight of Alex making a run for it. Even the third Alpha, coming out of the shower room at a run in response to Echo's yells, was too far back to make a difference.

He could have sung with joy. He was going to make it.

Then he saw the keypad by the elevator door.

You needed a code to access the elevator. Of course you needed a code to access the elevator. And Alex had no idea what the code was.

He pushed the button to call the elevator anyway, hoping against all odds that it would somehow work; but the button just lit up and then went off, while the keypad flashed red.

Desperate, he started hitting six digit codes at random. He was able to try two before Echo caught up with him.

He suddenly found himself slammed against the wall beside the keypad. Pain exploded all over his scalp as Echo grabbed a handful of hair and yanked him off the wall, then slammed him to the floor. He tried to push himself up but was only pushed down again, hard enough for him to still and stop fighting. There was nowhere to go; he had lost.

The other two Alphas had caught up by that point. His hands were cuffed painfully behind his back, his legs were tied together, and the unnamed Alpha picked him up roughly and threw him over his shoulder to carry him back to his cell. There, he was tossed on the bed face-down, and felt the shackle fasten around his ankle. The remains of the contents of the tray – including the glass shards of what had been his plate – and the tray itself was removed, but the sticky mess made by the juice and egg residue was left. Just like that, his captors disappeared, leaving him gasping in pain at the rough treatment and tight bonds.

It would be several hours before they returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so cute and cuddly now, is he, Echo?


	8. The Outing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got caught up in a _Criminal Minds_ marathon and almost didn't get this chapter up in time! Sorry if it isn't as polished as my usual work!

It was hours before anyone came to release him from his bonds. Hours of laying on his stomach on the bed and trying desperately to flex his calves and thighs so the muscles didn't get too stiff, and wiggle his fingers so his hands didn't get too numb.

Still, when he heard six beeps coming from the door to his cell, he could have cried from relief.

He turned his head as best he could to watch Echo and Victor walk through the door. Echo still seemed mad at him, but softened when he saw Alex lying on the bed. Alex happily let him caress his cheek and coo “poor baby!” as the coddling was followed by the handcuffs releasing and his legs being unwound. Victor watched all this, face impassive.

He went to sit up, but Echo pushed him back down onto the bed, none too gently, and took his hands. The Alpha looked at the welts that the cuffs had cut into his wrists, and tusked as he smeared some sort of ointment on the wounds. As if the whole thing had been Alex's idea.

Echo then proceeded to strip him of his shirt. Alex tensed; but the Alpha just wanted to rub Icy Hot into the muscles of his back and shoulders. Alex actually did cry then, unable to help the tears slipping down his face as the cramped muscles loosened.

Echo let him sit up, then. “Would you like to go outside?” he asked the omega.

Alex stared at him, shocked. Would he like … “I'm sorry, what?” he replied.

“You've missed the morning hour,” Echo said, somewhat sourly, “but we'll take you up to the backyard if you'd like, for your afternoon hour.”

What fresh nonsense was this? “Yes, please,” Alex said hesitantly, fearing a trap of some sort.

Without another word, Echo unshackled his ankle, then pulled out another pair of cuffs from his back pocket. At least these were padded. “You've tried to escape twice now,” he said firmly, waving the cuffs in Alex's face. “For at least the next few days, you're going to be shackled in some way or another at all times.” He at least cuffed Alex's hands in front of his body, letting the poor abused muscles in his back rest.

Alex stood to leave, then paused a moment. “What about my shirt? Or shoes?” he asked.

“You won't need shoes, Little One,” Echo assured him with a smile.

“And Vitamin D is good for the baby,” Victor pragmatically added.

The two Alphas led him out of the cell, turning left instead of right. Alex took his time looking around as they walked towards the elevator – the only other two times he had been this way, he either been hooded or a little too preoccupied to look around. He also looked into the cells as they walked past, and got his first look at his fellow prisoner – a male, probably beta, in the cell closest to the elevator. The beta, he saw, had a nicer cell than his – more spacious, with a larger and more comfortable-looking bed. He watched the small parade troop past his cell, before turning back to the large television set in his cell.

Alex wondered what he was here for.

Actually, Alex wondered what he himself was here for.

“Why, exactly, am I here?” he asked Echo as the Alpha called the elevator. He huffed with irritation as Victor insisted on covering his eyes with his hand while Echo typed in the code.

“Dunno,” Echo replied flippantly.

Alex blinked, shocked by the Alpha's answer. “You … don't know?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

“Not my department,” Echo explained, escorting Alex onto the elevator.

Alex blinked again, trying to process this new information, but couldn't make it make sense. “What does that mean?” he asked Echo.

Echo sighed. “Victor and I – and Charlie – we are hired to … acquire certain targets, be they people or objects, and keep them safe until called for. Murphy hired us to bring you here-”

“Kidnap me,” Alex interrupted firmly.

“-if you'd like, _kidnap_ you and bring you here, and keep you here, until he needs you for anything. Our job is to not only keep you from escaping, but also to keep you healthy and reasonably comfortable, until whomever Murphy is extorting does whatever he wants them to. Then we release you.”

“So what does Murphy want me for?”

“Murphy was talking about a Senator – your mate?” At Alex's nod, Echo waved his hand. “There you go.”

“But what does _Murphy_ have against _Thomas_?”

“Personally? Nothing. He will have been hired by someone else; _they're_ the ones who want something from your mate.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Alex said, waving his right hand in front of him to stop the flow of words. Unfortunately, as they were shackled together, that meant his left hand was forced to go along for the ride; Alex ignored it. “So let me get this straight. Someone hired Murphy to kidnap me, so Murphy hired you to do the actual kidnapping? What is this, some sort of outsourcing deal?”

Victor gave him a dirty look, for some reason. “Someone hired Murphy to do whatever it took to get your mate to do what they wanted. Murphy then studied your mate, tried to find any weaknesses, whatever leverage he could find. He then decided that your mate's biggest weakness was you, at which point he contacted us to do the actual acquisition. Murphy does all the interacting with the mark; we're just glorified babysitters.”

“You mean you're a prison,” Alex said, in no mood to let his captor use euphemisms to pretend like the situation was something other than what it was.

“If you'd like,” Echo replied, unbothered by the comparison. “However, I promise you; we're much nicer than your average government-run penitentiary.” A pause, while he thought of something. “Although we can get a bit more creative than the law allows wardens at any government-run facilities. Which reminds me: don't try and escape again. We operate on a three-strike system here. You run again, you will get caught, and we will make it so that you can't run a fourth time. And you will look back at the past six hours with fondness. Do we have an understanding?”

Alex swallowed, suddenly nervous. “I believe so, yes,” he replied.

Both Alphas could smell his fear, and both smiled. “Good,” Echo said. “Very good.” The elevator dinged. “Here we are.”

The 'backyard', as it turned out, was a fairly decently-sized area of packed dirt surrounded by a strong-looking wrought iron fence, and covered in what appeared to be the same faux-glass that made up his cell wall. The result was a cage that allowed air movement and was not harsh on his bare feet, but would be almost impossible to escape from, even if he wasn't being watched. There wasn't even a gate in the fence.

There was, however, a paved area off to the side with a few lounge chairs. The two Alphas immediately headed there; Alex automatically followed. “No, not yet,” Victor told him. “You can bask in the sun all you want after you've walked ten laps.”

Alex looked back and saw that, indeed, a path of sorts had been worn into the dirt. “What is this, gym class?” he groused.

It earned him a slap to the head. “You need the exercise,” Victor stated. “Stretch your legs. Ten laps. You can run them or crawl them for all we care. Stroll them like you're shopping at the mall, or whatever it is you rich little house omegas do while your Alpha is at work. Just know that your ass is going around that circle ten times, if I have to drag it the whole way.” He paused. “Which I will not be happy about.”

To be fair, stretching his legs sounded good. He stood there with his hands crossed as best he could around the cuffs just to be contrary. But when Victor sighed and got a good grip on his hair, he relented. “Ow, ow, okay!” he said. “I'm going!” Mercifully, Victor let him go.

The bastards sat there and watched him walk all ten laps, too. He ignored them as best he could, and did eleven laps out of spite. And because, after being in that cell so long, solid movement felt so good.

Afterward, he walked over to the chairs. He was half expecting to be shooed away again, but instead, Echo waved him over. When he went to stand beside Echo's lounge chair, the Alpha pulled him down on top of him, sitting on the chair with Echo's legs to either side of his own, and laying with his head on Echo's chest. It was uncomfortable and awkward, but Alex remembered what Echo had said about escape attempts and suffered through. He was rewarded with a hand on his belly again, and two Alphas who completely ignored him as they gossiped over his head. He paid attention at first, hoping to hear them let something slide, but quickly realized that they were too professional for such a stupid mistake. Instead, he closed his eyes and just enjoyed the feeling of the sun on his skin for the first time in what felt like weeks, and allowed his mind to drift.

True to their word, the Alphas allowed him to stay outside for what felt like an hour. At that point, however, Victor stood abruptly. “Up you go, Little One,” he said, helping Alex up.

They went back downstairs to begin what Alex thought was probably the evening routine. He was made to shower again, after his time outside, given fresh sweats and a tee, then escorted back to his cell.

Or, at least, a cell. “This isn't the same one,” he protested when he was led to the cell closest to the bathroom this time.

“We know,” Victor said. “Echo wants you to have an upgrade.” True enough, this cell was like the one the beta was in – nicer bed, nicer furniture, bigger TV.

Alex held his tongue as they shackled him to the new bed and left. He held his tongue as he was fed dinner. He held his tongue as Echo insisted on watching television with him afterwards, _Wheel of Fortune_ and _Jeopardy!_ giving him a surreal look back into the real world he had inhabited a lifetime and two days ago.

He held his tongue as Echo turned the lights out before the evening news.

He even held his tongue as Echo returned a few minutes later and crawled into bed with him. He held his tongue as the Alpha wrapped himself around him, pulled Alex against his body. He held his tongue as the Alpha fell asleep that way, face buried in Alex's hair, although it would be many, many hours before Alex could sleep himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: did you know that, out of the 210 media markets in the United States, 206 have a local channel that airs _Jeopardy!_ and _Wheel of Fortune_? And that, of those 206 markets, 129 air _Jeopardy!_ first, and the other 77 air _Wheel_ first? Almost all the markets in Virginia -- including the one I live in (and Monticello is in) and the ones in the D.C. area -- air _Wheel_ first, so I had it come first in Alex's evening lineup. But we're definitely in the minority!
> 
> What about you guys? Do you get _Jeopardy!_ and _Wheel_? Which comes on first for you?
> 
> What do you guys think about Echo's increasing interest in Alex?


	9. The Envelope

The next morning, Thomas got another letter.

In fact, Thomas got several letters. That wasn't unusual for a sitting Senator. This letter, however, lacked a return address and was written in handwriting he recognized.

Homeland Security insisted on checking it for any signs of explosives before letting him open it. Their dog sniffed at the thick white material before turning away in boredom. With shaking hands, Thomas unsealed the flap and peeked inside.

The very first thing he saw was Alex's face. A photo; two photos, actually. He pulled them out, greedily consuming with his eyes the proof of Alex's continued existence. In fact, it took him several moments to stop looking at his mate and realize what was wrong with the photo.

His mate was sitting in the lap of another man, probably an Alpha by the looks of him. The strange Alpha hand his arm around Alex, had Alex's shirt up, had his hand placed on Alex's skin possessively. The Alpha, whose face was scratched out, was possessing his mate. The Alpha was _possessing_ his _Alex_. And Alex _didn't even seem surprised_. Like this was _normal_. Like this Alpha was just _constantly_ touching him, possessing him, rubbing his scent all over him ...

Thomas snarled at that, and didn't care who heard. The savage noise ripped from his throat, a threat to the man who would _dare_ to-

“What's that in Alexander's hand?” George asked, coming up behind him and looking at the photo over his shoulder.

Thomas tried and put his jealousy aside and looked at the photo again. There was, indeed, something in Alex's hand, something that he was looking at. Something that he seemed quite unhappy about. _Devastated_ , his brain supplied. Alex looked _devastated_ at whatever was in his hand.

“I'd imagine it's this,” Sampson said, taking another object out of the envelope.

For a brief, brief moment of ignorant bliss, Thomas just stared at the object, confused. Then his brain caught up with his eyes, and he felt like someone had punched him in the gut.

It was a pregnancy test, encased in another plastic baggie. It was, in fact, a _positive_ pregnancy test. Which meant …

Thomas flipped to the second photo. Alex was looking into the camera now, undoubtedly prompted to do so by whomever was taking the photos. He held up the test, so that the results were clearly visible. His expression desolate as he gazed unseeing into the camera.

Thomas knew exactly how he felt.

“Congratulations,” Sampson offered hesitantly, unsure whether that was the correct sentiment or not.

Thomas didn't hear her. His mate was pregnant. His mate, whom the strange Alpha with the scratched out face was gripping possessively, who was completely at the mercy of these men who meant him nothing but harm, his mate was pregnant.

Thomas almost didn't make the toilet in time before emptying the contents of his stomach violently into the bowl.

* * *

When Alex woke up, it was to find that everything had been a bad dream. He was laying in bed, laying on his side, and Thomas was there. Thomas had his arms around him, Thomas was drawing circles on the bare skin of his stomach. Thomas leaned forward to kiss the sensitive skin of his scent gland.

“Mmm,” Alex hummed in appreciation. Something solid was poking at him through the fabric of his pyjamas; he ground his ass back into Thomas' crotch, further exciting his mate, and smiled in satisfaction at the gasp of delighted surprise the gesture rewarded him with.

His mate's hand left his stomach to run down the skin of his abdomen, to slip underneath the fabric of his pyjamas and wrap itself around his dick. Now it was Alex's turn to gasp in delight at the flames of pleasure that licked through his body as the hand fondled his balls, wrapped itself around his-

Why was he wearing pyjamas?

His eyes flew open. He wasn't home, this wasn't his bed. And the hand around his dick was too light to be Thomas'.

“Echo?” he remembered the name of the man who had crawled into his bed last night.

“Shh, Little One,” the owner of the hand insisted. “Just relax.”

The hand left his crotch. He had just a moment of relief before Echo used it to strip off his pyjama shirt instead.

“Please, Echo,” Alex was fighting panic, trying to remain calm, ignoring the tears that prickled at his eyes. The hands were starting to remove his pants now. “Please, please don't.”

Mercifully, the hands stopped.

“Don't tease, Little One,” Echo said, somehow, miraculously, amused by the whole thing. “Next time, I won't- what's this?” Echo had noticed the tears – originally tears of fear, now of relief. “No, no, don't cry, Little One. I'll stop next time, too.” He took Alex's face in his hands, brushing away the tears with his thumbs. “That wasn't a very nice surprise to wake up to, hmm?”

“I thought you were Thomas,” Alex confessed, and the thumbs stroking his skin stopped.

“Yes, I imagine you did,” Echo said, standing up abruptly. “Relieve yourself while I go get your breakfast.” He didn't look at Alex as he laid out the sweats and tee from the night before for Alex to change into and left the cell.

Alex did as asked – in a porcelain toilet/sink, no less, instead of the metal of his old cell! – and got dressed. Echo came in as he was finishing, and placed his breakfast in front of him. Alex looked at the same toast-yogurt-eggs-juice combination from the morning before, felt how his stomach still roiling from fear, and had absolutely no desire to eat it.

“What have we talked about with food?” Echo chided him. The Alpha came over to put a hand on his shoulder, which was not helping in the slightest.

Hesitantly, Alex spooned out a bite of yogurt. His body didn't immediately reject it, so he ate some of the egg, and the slice of toast. Echo let him leave some of the yogurt, but insisted that he eat all the egg and drink all the orange juice.

Alex felt like a five year old, negotiating how many bites he had to eat before he could be dismissed.

After breakfast, instead of going to the showers, Echo was joined by Victor to take Alex upstairs to the backyard. “We have a treat for you this afternoon,” Echo said, running his hand through Alex's hair. Alex, once again shackled, couldn't do much to stop him.

In the backyard, his captors again insisted that he walk ten laps around the area. Alex complied readily enough, even jogging them, enjoying the stretch and burn of muscle and joints with the light exercise. Echo frowned at the pace he set himself, but Victor watched impassively.

Afterward, Alex walked over to the chaise lounges. He was ready for Echo to want him to sit on his lap, and so pretended not to see the Alpha trying to get his attention. Instead, he laid himself out on one of the free lounges and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on his face.

He had almost thirty seconds of peace before he was being pushed into a sitting position. Echo sat on the lounge behind him before guiding him back down to lay on the Alpha's chest like the day before. With a sigh of resignation, Alex got as comfortable as he could, although he winced as Echo's hand once again came to rest on his stomach. “Please don't,” he said to the Alpha.

Echo ignored his request completely.

After that, the hour spent in the sun was rather stiff and awkward. Alex was almost glad when Victor stood up and announced that it was time to go back down.

Again, both Alphas watched him shower, and again, they shaved him themselves before letting him dress in a clean outfit.

With a feeling of routine, Alex let them shackle him again after he had dressed, and lead him back to his new cell.

Murphy stood there.

Murphy was there, waiting for them with a scowl on his face. “Was it really necessary to scrub the bitch clean?” he bit out, eyeing Alex's damp hair.

“Yes, it was,” Victor answered shortly, refusing to look at the smaller Alpha.

“At least you got rid of that peach fuzz growth on his face,” Murphy bit out, roughly stroking the newly-smooth skin. “It made him look like a teenager trying to grow his first mustache.”

Alex suddenly realized just how tense both Alphas were. It was a relief, knowing that they hated Murphy as much as he did. “At least I can grow some,” he bit out at the small Alpha.

Murphy's eyes flashed in anger. It was all the warning Alex got before a palm landed hard against his cheek, hard enough to knock him to the floor. With his hands bound, he couldn't defend himself as Murphy got a good kick in to his right shin before Victor stopped him.

“ _Our_ guest,” Victor bit out while Echo helped Alex to his feet and cooed over the bruise undoubtedly blossoming on his face. “ _We_ will decide when and if he will be punished. Do we have an understanding?”

“You fucked him, didn't you?” Murphy ignored Victor to demand of Echo. “Your scent is all over him. What, the cow-eyed omega spread his legs and you just couldn't help yourself?”

Echo trembled with rage and was about to speak before Victor stepped between them. “Enough!” he roared, and Alex recoiled at the smell of dominance rolling off of the Alpha. “We have a long drive ahead of us, and I don't want to get there in the wee hours of the morning. Let's go.”

Alex never saw the hood that suddenly covered his head, nor did he sense Echo move until he was in the Alpha's arms. They paused just long enough for Victor to bind his legs tightly, before Echo was carrying him into the unknown.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the worst has happened for poor Thomas. I'd say that this is rock bottom for him, but last time I said those words I ended up eating them. We'll have to see! Yell at me for torturing our poor boys in the comments.


	10. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how hostage/ransom negotiations work in real life. Everything presented here is a amalgam of scenes from the various crime dramas my sister has forced me to watch over the years. Please excuse any inaccuracies.
> 
> _This one's intense, guys. Proceed with caution if you're triggered by things like casual violence or talk of rape._

They were going to call. The note said that they would call this evening. What did that mean, though, really? Did that mean six o'clock? Five o'clock? Nine o'clock?

The FBI wasn't taking any chances. There had been a brief but intense fight over jurisdiction and what agency had the right to take point during the upcoming negotiations, and the FBI won – mainly by virtue of their experience in hostage situations – and so it was FBI equipment that was being used and FBI agents who were briefing Thomas on exactly what to say and exactly how to compose himself on the phone.

Thomas didn't care. The FBI, Secret Service, Homeland Security, local LEOs, whatever department of law enforcement would get Alex back, he'd be more than happy to listen to them and follow their instructions to the letter.

Which was how, starting at noon, his dining room had transformed from strategic operations to the command center. Equipment of all shapes and sizes were spread out over his table, all with their own function that he only half understood.

What mattered most of all – to him, at least – was the contraption at the head of the table that was currently plugged into his cell phone. It recorded the audio of any conversation over that cell phone, transmitted that audio to a number of headsets around the table, and told some other piece of equipment what number was coming in so that that equipment could trace the number. Or something.

Thomas hadn't paid that much attention during  _CSI_ or  _NCIS_ or whatever other crime drama Alex liked to watch. He never thought that he'd be living an episode himself.

“Remember,” the FBI agent who had been assigned to instruct him was telling him. “Empathize with this Murphy. Make sure he uses Alex's name, talk about Alex like he's a person and not just an object to be traded. And above all, keep him on the line as long as possible. The longer you talk, the better chance that we're able to trace the call to its source.”

“Empathize. Alex is a person. Stall.” Thomas nodded. “Got it.”

Which was the easy part, really. The hard part was the waiting for the call to come through. Was watching the hours tick past, watching noon turn to afternoon turn to evening, watching the sun set from the middle of the sky down to the horizon.

It was 9:12 before the phone finally rang. Nine hours of standing around, waiting. Nine hours of nail biting and worrying. But when the phone went off, the lateness of the hour wasn't the biggest anomaly.

Thomas stared at the machine as it buzzed across the dining room table, aghast. That wasn't his ring tone. Hesitantly, he picked it up, careful not to dislodge the chord, and startled at what he saw on the screen.

“He wants to Skype,” he told the closest FBI agent.

* * *

They drove for what felt like hours. Of course, it was hard to tell with the hood over his head. They could have driven in a huge circle for all he knew, only to end up back where they had started.

He was sitting in the backseat again, sandwiched between the two large Alphas. Only now, he knew that they were Victor and Echo. Now, he knew that when Victor shifted the way he just had, that he was getting annoyed by how long they had ridden. Now, he knew that when Echo's knee brushed against his own, it wasn't a mistake.

The long car ride gave him time to think, and what he came up with was that he didn't like it. Nothing so far that Murphy had been involved in had ended in any way pleasantly. Most of the time, in fact, it had ended in pain. And since this outing seemed to have been Murphy's idea, Alex was pretty sure that he wouldn't like whatever was on the other end.

He would need an ally, he decided. Someone to help balance Murphy's sadistic qualities and unstable personality.

He thought long and hard about what he was about to do. He weighed the pros and the cons, and decided that the risk was acceptable. That the worst that Victor and Echo would do to him didn't come even close to the worst that Murphy would do to him.

With a sigh, he laid his head on Echo's shoulder.

Even through the fabric of the hood, he heard Echo's little gasp of surprise. Echo tensed up for a moment, and Alex worried that he had miscalculated. Then Echo's hand slipped under the fabric of the hood, and stroked Alex's cheek.

They rode for probably a half hour after that, and Alex didn't pick his head back up until he felt the car engine turn off. Then he was being pulled from the backseat and cradled in someone's arms, being carried somewhere. Again, he held himself still to pay attention to where they were going; but their new location was nowhere near as complex as the building with the cells. They simply walked through a door, around a corner, into a room, and shut the door behind them.

He was lowered into a chair, but Echo made sure to position him such that his hands, still cuffed behind his back, went on the other side of the back of the chair and not where he would sit on them.

Then his hood was lifted, just a little, just to uncover his face from the nose down. “Sorry, Little One,” Echo whispered as a gag was forced between his teeth and the hood replaced.

Then they waited.

* * *

Thomas saw the video call come through on his cell phone, and looked at the FBI agent for his suggestion. This wasn't something that they had prepared for.

Nor was it something that the FBI had prepared for, either, it seemed. “It's still using the cell network; we can still trace the call,” the agent said. “It'll just take longer. All nonessential personnel, clear the room. That includes you, Mr. President, please. Senator Jefferson, please accept the call.”

Thomas did as he was asked, and was immediately presented with a figure that he assumed must be Murphy. A ski mask covered everything but his eyes and mouth. The man was obviously using a webcam instead of Thomas' cellphone, so Thomas could also see that he was one of the smallest Alphas that he had ever seen. The man was not much bigger than Alex, really. If it hadn't been for the size of the man's teeth, Thomas would have assumed he was a beta.

“Senator,” the man on the screen purred, and Thomas immediately decided that he hated the man for the smirk on his face alone. “I'm Murphy. And I believe I have something that you want. I know you have something that I want. I think we can help each other.”

_Empathize_ , Thomas reminded himself. “You must want it very badly to go through all this work to get it,” he began, but was cut off by Murphy's laugh.

“Empathizing with me, Senator?” he asked. Thomas' alarm must have shown, because he laughed again. “No, I'm not a mind reader; I've just had enough run-ins with the FBI to recognize their handiwork form a mile away. Why don't you give us a look around the room?”

“I'm sorry, what?” Thomas asked, seemingly confused. _Stall for time_.

Murphy's amusement turned to irritation in a second. “Turn your phone. Show us the room you're sitting in.”

With no choice, Thomas did as requested, showing the man the team he still had sitting around his table and tapping at their various pieces of equipment.

“A fairly standard team. I'm surprised, Senator; I thought that you would rate someone higher up than the rank-and-file at your table.”

Thomas didn't tell him about the various directors and secretaries from various agencies just out of sight. “Now I've done as you've asked; do you have Alex there with you? Can I see him?”

Murphy's face contorted into something unpleasant that left a twisted feeling in Thomas' gut. “The preggo little bitch we've been keeping company for the past couple days?” he asked. “Absolutely.” And he picked the webcam up and turned it to the side, and Thomas was very careful to not make a sound in response to what he saw.

A small figure sat in a chair, bound and hooded. Two of the largest Alphas that Thomas had ever seen stood to either side, masked much as Murphy was. At some signal off-camera, one of the men lifted the hood off the figure's head in a way that was almost tender, and Thomas made eye contact with his mate for the first time in days.

He was still gagged, but Alex's eyes lifted in a way that made Thomas know that he was smiling, smiling at him.

There was an obvious palm print on one of his cheeks.

“What have you done to him? Why is his face marked like that?” Thomas was demanding before he could stop himself.

The camera shifted for a moment, and Murphy reappeared, blocking Thomas' view of Alex. “Oh, he just needed a little reminder of his place here. Don't worry; we've been taking good care of him. Echo, in particular, has taken quite a liking to the bitch's tight little ass.”

Murphy indicated the man that had taken Alex's hood off. Thomas suddenly recognized the Alpha from the pregnancy photo, the one that had had his hand on Alex's stomach. The taste of bile suddenly in the back of his mouth, he turned back to Alex. His mate was still smiling at him around the gag. Slowly, the omega shook his head, _no_. Thomas relaxed, just a fraction.

“Now that that's out of the way,” Murphy reclaimed the conversation. “We need to talk.” Suddenly, with the sound of metal sliding against leather, there was a knife in Murphy's hand. Thomas didn't miss the way Alex was suddenly very, very alert and very, very focused on that knife.

“In exactly eight days' time, the Senate meets,” Murphy said, studying his knife and swishing it experimentally through the air. Alex watched every gesture intently, the way a person watches a mad dog. “There's quite a few items on the agenda, I'm sure, but one item is the so-called Omega Healthcare Act bill. When that item is called, you are going to ask for the floor, and you are going to make a passionate speech against this bill passing. In fact, it's going to be so passionate, that the bill fails.” He was suddenly by Alex's side, suddenly skimming the knife lightly over the skin of Alex's cheek, just barely touching. Alex flinched away from the metal and was suddenly gasping in lungfuls of air. “If you successfully tank the bill, then I'll tell you where you can pick up your little piece of ass. If not …” Alex gasped through the gag as the knife parted the skin over his cheekbone, leaving a long cut that immediately began to bleed, “... then your poor little omega and the child he's carrying pays for your incompetence.”

“Please,” Thomas couldn't take the terror in his mate's eyes. “That's what you want, the bill gone? And you'll release Alex, and not kill him?”

Murphy snorted. “Oh, don't worry; we won't kill him,” he assured Thomas. He studied Alex's face almost clinically, a bored expression on his own, and a second red line appeared beside the first. “Not exactly any money in that, is there? No, I know a few brothels in town that just love pretty little omegas like yours, and are willing to pay quite a bit of cash to anyone who, ah,  _finds_ them new  _employees_ . Of course, they'll probably abort the fetus. No one wants to fuck a pregnant omega, do they?”

Thomas had to take a moment to fight the urge to be sick right there on camera. “Please,” he entreated when he could. “Please stop cutting him. I'll do as you asked. Please, please don't hurt him.”

Murphy turned to the camera, smiled at Thomas, and drew a third red line beside the others. “I believe we have come to an agreement?” he stated, wiping the flat of the knife onto Alex's pants to clean off the blood. Alex was turning alarmingly pale.

“Yes, yes, of course! I'll do as you asked.”

Murphy just smiled again, and severed the connection.

 


	11. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas isn't doing so well, guys.

The knife was gone. The knife was gone, and Murphy had unplugged the computer to sever the connection, and there was blood dripping down his face and smeared on his clothes, but the knife was gone. He breathed, sharp gulps of air, unable to get enough of the stuff to satisfy his burning lungs. The knife was gone, but the edges of his vision were starting to go black.

“Little One,” Echo said, a hand on either side of his face. “Listen to me now. We're going to breathe together, okay? Breathe in, two three four five six seven. Breathe out, two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven. Breathe with your stomach, not your chest. Breathe in, two three four five six seven. Breathe out, two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven.”

“You son of a bitch,” Victor bit out. Alex flinched, but it was aimed at Murphy, not him. “What the hell do you think you were doing?”

“Feeling better now?” Echo asked, ignoring Victor. Ignoring him somewhat, at least. “You can't negotiate with a dead hostage, Murphy.”

“He's not in any danger,” Murphy reminded them, rolling his eyes. “Worst case scenario, his little omega lungs can't handle it and he passes out.”

“Or his heart gives out,” Victor spat back. “We're supposed to discuss any harm to the hostage ahead of time, remember? We have his full medical history; suppose he had some sort of heart defect? You think your mark is gonna pay out after watching his mate have a heart attack and die?”

“Whatever,” Murphy said, waving the concerns away. “It obviously didn't happen, did it?”

Victor sighed; Alex jumped a bit as something heavy was suddenly dropped at his side. “New rule, Murphy: you don't touch the guests, particularly  _this_ guest, without either Echo's permission or mine.” Victor seemed to think about that. “Actually, you don't  _interact_ with them without our permission.”

“Fine, fine,” Murphy growled out. “Moving on, we have to get out of here before- what are you doing?”

The heavy something that had dropped at his side, it turned out, was a first aid kit. Victor ignored Murphy to open the kit and dig out some antiseptic wipes and a few butterfly bandages. He used a few gauze pads to help stop the bleeding, then went to work with the wipes and the bandages.

“Dear Lord, it's a few shallow cuts. It's not like I slit his throat or anything.”

Both Alphas ignored him. While Victor worked, Echo comforted Alex, stroking his cheek and cooing into his ear.

It was a complete overreaction, of course. But he thought that that might be the point.

He did his part, playing up his role as the shaken victim; although one look at how mad Murphy had gotten, pacing back and forth impatiently, and it wasn't so much of an act.

Finally, Victor pronounced himself satisfied. “Let's go, let's go!” Murphy hissed.

“Sorry, Little One,” Echo whispered as he again put the hood over Alex's head.

* * *

For several moments after Murphy severed the connection, Thomas didn't say anything. He just stared at the cheery colors of the Skype app on his phone's screen. Then, abruptly enough to startle the people in the room with him, he stood and punched a hole into the drywall. Shocked, he stared at the hole he had just made, cradling his hand.

Instantly, he was surrounded by people. People who were concerned, people who wanted to make sure he hadn't injured himself, people who wanted to reassure him that they would find Alex. He tuned them all out, staring dumbly at the new hole in the wall.

The hand that was suddenly on his shoulder felt heavier, somehow, more important, than all the other people buzzing around him put together. He instinctively looked behind him to see that the hand belonged to George.

“Thomas,” George said. “Let's go get some ice for those knuckles.” Without waiting to see his response, George turned and headed for the kitchen. Mutely, Thomas followed.

Somehow, the kitchen was empty. George had been here often enough that he didn't hesitate to open the freezer and pull out the cold pack, then went unerringly to the correct drawer and pulled out a clean dish towel to wrap the pack in. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, looking at the hands wrapping the towel around the pack instead of at him.

“How do I know that, even if I do what they ask, they won't kill him anyway? Or … or _sell_ him?” This was the question that kept him up at night ever since he had learned that Alex's disappearance had a human cause. “You saw the photos they sent me of … of Alex and that Alpha. He didn't have a hood, and the Alpha didn't have a mask. He's seen their faces. What if they decide that they can't take the risk?”

George seemed to take the question seriously. “I couldn't see the video, and could barely hear the audio, from where I was standing,” he said. “You saw them with Alex. Do you think that that's likely?”

“No. Yes? Especially if it's Murphy's decision? That man ...” Thomas shivered. “I don't know.”

George nodded. “Talk to the FBI,” he advised, handing Thomas the pack. “They have the training and experience to know how likely that scenario is.”

Thomas automatically pressed the cold pack to his knuckles, but he wasn't listening to George anymore. “You should have seen him,” he muttered. “George, he was so scared. When Murphy pulled out that knife … he was so scared, George. He … and Murphy just kept cutting him. Just kept-”

“Enough,” George barked, firmly enough that Thomas immediately fell silent. “Other than those cuts, did he seem injured at all?”

“They had slapped him,” Thomas said, remembering the hand print on his mate's cheek.

“Anything other than that?” George pushed.

Thomas thought about it, going through every moment of the video chat. With a purpose in mind, it wasn't so painful. “No,” he admitted.

“Did he look fed? Rested?”

Thomas huffed out something that might generously be called a laugh. “When does  _Alex_ ever look  _rested_ ? Or fed, for that matter?”

George chuckled under his breath. “Fair enough,” he admitted. “Did he look fed and rested for Alex? Was he clean?”

Thomas' shoulders relaxed some of their tension. “He looked like he was clean, and wearing clean clothes. He was even shaven.” His shoulders tensed again. “They shaved off his goatee.”

“He can regrow it easily enough,” George brushed it off. “The point is, they're caring for his physical needs. He's being fed, he's being allowed to shower, he's being supplied with clean clothes and toiletries, even a razor, he's being given a place to sleep. No, they probably don't have him holed up in the Four Seasons, but they haven't thrown him in a corner somewhere and left him to rot, either.” He put his hand on Thomas' shoulder again. “They're not going to go to all that trouble, just to keep hurting him. And they have nothing to gain from doing anything to him where you can't see.”

Thomas thought about George's logic, and had to nod. “You're right,” he agreed.

“If the worse Alex gets from this whole experience is a few cuts and a slap, then I feel confident calling it a win.”

Thomas nodded again. “You're right,” he repeated.

“So here's what we're going to do. You don't need to decide what you're going to do about this Murphy's demands tonight. You don't need to worry about what they're doing to Alex while you can't see him, because the answer is probably feeding him and putting him to bed. What you _do_ need to do is make sure that you're at your best, so that when you _do_ need to make those decisions, you can do so with a clear head. Can you eat?”

_'Can you eat?'_ , not ' _have you eaten?'_ or even ' _do you need to eat?'_ . Thomas thought of eating, thought of the process of putting food in his mouth, of chewing it and of swallowing it, and felt his stomach roil at the prospect. “No, I don't think so,” he admitted.

George nodded. “Okay,” he said, not judgmental in the least. “Then what we're going to do is, we're going to give you enough sleeping pills to knock out a horse, then we're going to send you to bed.”

Thomas physically flinched at the suggestion. “It's not even ten o'clock, George!” he protested.

“You're not exactly keeping a normal schedule here, Thomas.”

“What if they call back?”

“Then we'll wake you.”

“But what if I'm too groggy to talk to them?”

“Then the FBI will do it instead.”

“But what if they demand to speak to me, not the FBI?”

“Then the FBI will tell them to call back.”

“But what if-”

“Enough, Thomas!” George insisted, cutting Thomas off with a wave of the hand. “You can stand here and come up with a million and one unlikely scenarios until morning if that's what you want. What if the house catches fire? What if Britain invades again? What if we're abducted by UFOs? The fact of the matter still remains: while those are only _possibilities_ , the _certainty_ is that you need sleep. And by God, you're going to get it, if I have to- well.” George cut himself off before he said something unfortunate. “You're going to sleep.” Then George did something Thomas had seldom seen him do – he smiled. “Consider it an executive order.”

Thomas couldn't help the giggle that burst out of him at that. And if the giggle was a touch hysterical, both men were careful not to notice. “Okay,” Thomas agreed.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” George nodded, looking somewhat pleased. “Where's your medicine cabinet?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas may not be happy this chapter, but Alex isn't gonna be happy next chapter.


	12. The Dedication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just all the pain.

“No, I don't think you should give in to this Murphy's demands,” the FBI agent was telling him.

Thomas frowned at the man. It was all well and good for this agent, whose name he had never bothered to learn, to say that; it wasn't his mate in danger. “And if they decide to go ahead with their threats to  _traffick my mate to an illegal brothel?”_

“Then they will lose their only bargaining chip,” the agent replied. “Although I don't believe it will come to that; Murphy's threat is a bluff.”

“Oh, sure,” Thomas spat. “The, again, this Murphy seemed like a very stable individual when we spoke together. What if he decides to make good on his threat out of pure spite? Or, I don't know, decides to get his revenge by cutting off a finger? Or a hand? He seemed very fond of that knife.”

“At least then he will be alive,” the agent reminded Thomas. “If you do cave to his demands, what guarantee do you have that he'll keep his word and release your omega? However, to be honest, I don't believe it will even get that far. Some of the best men in the industry are working to track down where they're keeping your mate. We hope to have him home to you long before that Senate hearing.”

“Oh?” Thomas made the question as sarcastic as he could.

“We're already processing the abandoned warehouse that they made the call from. We've collected dozens of different prints, and are sorting through them, trying to distinguish the old prints from the warehouse workers when the building was open, to the new prints from our kidnappers. We're also keeping an eye on the place, just in case one of them comes back.”

“Yes, that seems likely,” Thomas replied.

The agent sighed. “It's a long shot,” he admitted. “But stranger things have happened. And honestly? I'd rather have a team watching the place and never need them, then forgo the team and have one of these dirtbags decide to revisit the scene of the crime.”

Thomas sighed. “You're right,” he admitted. “I'm … I'm sorry.”

The agent put a hand on Thomas' shoulder, and didn't seem to notice when the gesture made Thomas flinch. “This is my job,” he said. “Let me do it. Decide what you want to do if it gets that far, but don't be surprised if we have your mate home to you before you have to implement that decision.”

* * *

For better or for worse, after their ransom call to Thomas, Alex's relationship with Echo changed dramatically. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he had finally reciprocated Echo's affection, or if it was watching him be cut up by Murphy, that prompted the shift. But shift it did.

The change was gradual, however. The day after the video call, Echo was more present than normal, but not enough to worry Alex. He was fed, taken outside, allowed to shower, shaved, and taken back to his cell, all like normal. If Echo insisted on Alex sitting on his lap outside a little more forcefully than he had before, then Alex just chalked it up to Echo's annoyance that Alex was still trying to sit in his own chair; if Echo lingered a little longer than normal after his shower and didn't leave at all after bringing him his dinner, Alex wondered if maybe the Alpha was just bored. They had just successfully ransomed off the beta that day, after all. Maybe Echo simply didn't have anything better to do than keep Alex company.

The next day, however, Echo never left his cell at all, unless it was to help Victor escort Alex somewhere. The only time he was left alone was when Echo went to fetch their meals; which, for the first time, they are together. But if Echo wasn't breathing down his neck, Charlie was watching him from his post at the table in the common room; and Alex was pretty sure that they stayed outside longer than normal, long enough for him to begin to drift off in the sun like a cat. More Echo for more outside time was a fairly agreeable trade.

The third day, Alex wasn't allowed to shower, but was bathed. He was taken to a separate room off the showers that he'd never noticed before, and encouraged into the large spa tub there. Nor was Echo content to be a bystander any longer. No, while Victor looked on with a mixture of amusement and fondness, Echo insisted on soaping up Alex's hair and body himself, then having him stand in the tub so Echo could rinse him off and then dry him.

A pocket of uncertainty began to make itself known in the back of Alex's mind.

The tipping point came on the fourth day. Echo didn't go fetch their food himself, but had it brought down by a strange omega. This omega immediately had Alex's full attention. He looked ordinary – in fact, Alex was fairly certain that he had never seen the man before in his life – but what had Alex focused on him so intently was his smell.

The omega smelled like Thomas.

More specifically, the omega smelled like the pack scent that Alex shared with Thomas. All groups had a unique scent, an aspect of their personal scent profile that proclaimed to all the world that they were all a member of the same family, household, or team. Alex and Thomas shared the Jefferson pack scent, as did to a lesser extent the members of his staff that lived on premises. Their baby, too, would share that scent, after it had been home from the hospital for long enough.

Now this strange omega had the Jefferson pack scent, and to a much stronger degree than if he was just a staff member that came and went periodically. He smelled like home, life safety. Alex was racking his brain, trying to remember if Thomas had any long-time staff members that he hadn't met yet, while just enjoying the pleasant feeling of security and belonging that the smell invoked, when it hit him.

The omega wasn't carrying the Jefferson pack scent. He was carrying the pack scent of Echo and Victor.

Which meant that Alex had spent enough time around Echo and Victor to start instinctively equating their pack scent with home, and was probably carrying it himself.

Which meant that Alex no longer carried the Jefferson pack scent.

He felt the world tip under him, felt the blood rush to his head. Another part of himself had been stolen, another aspect of his identity removed, by these people.

He watched as if from far away as the omega smirked cruelly at his distress. He watched a confused Echo gather him into his arms, and could have keened for how safe that position made him feel. How had he not noticed the shift? How had it snuck up on him so thoroughly?

“Little One, what's wrong?” Echo cooed, running his fingers through his hair. “Look; Delta has made your eggs over easy this morning, just like you like them.”

Alex watched Echo put the eggs on top of his toast and cut through the tops to make the yolks run. He watched as Echo cut off a bite with the edge of the fork and brought it to his lips. Obediently, he took the bite and chewed it, and listened to Echo praise him for it. Mechanically, he chewed and swallowed every bite Echo put in his mouth, without tasting a single particle of it.

After Echo was satisfied at the amount he had eaten, the Alpha attempted to get him to stand so they could go outside for their morning walk, with no success. Alex hugged his knees to his chest and sunk into the blankets on his bed.

“What's wrong with him?” a confused Victor asked.

“I don't know,” Echo admitted. “He's been like this since Delta brought us breakfast.”

“Did Delta say something to upset him?”

“No; Delta didn't say anything.”

That wasn't true; when Echo had thanked Delta for his cooking, Delta had replied. Alex replayed the moment in his head, trying to remember the exact phrase that Delta had used in response. But that just brought him back to the moment when he had realized … Alex whimpered at the memory.

“Little One, are you hurt? Are you in pain?” A hand, stroking his hair. “Is it the baby?”

The baby. It all came rushing back to him, then – what was at stake here. He wasn't even going to be allowed to grieve in peace. Alex composed himself with a shaky breath, and took only a moment to mourn yet another part of the life he had made with Thomas.

_I'm so sorry, Thomas, for what I have to do_ , he thought.

Then he put it all away, thrust it violently from himself, and resolved to never look at it again until this was all over. Rededicated himself to doing whatever it took to survive – not just for himself, but for Thomas' child as well.

He smiled a watery smile at Echo. “I'm fine, I'm fine,” he reassured the Alpha. “The baby's been acting up today.” Then, with one last goodbye to the part of himself that had stayed aloof, he buried his face in Echo's neck. “I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry,” he muttered.

Victor still looked concerned, but Echo just seemed relieved that he was okay. “It's alright, Darlin',” he drawled, exactly how Thomas would have. “I'm just glad nothing's wrong. Do you want to go outside, to the backyard? We won't make you walk if you don't feel like it.”

Alex nuzzled him again. “Let's just stay here and watch TV,” he suggested.

Echo said nothing, but stroked Alex's hair as he picked up the remote.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a few people ask me about the kidnappers' names. They're all using code names, for obvious reasons. Echo and Victor -- and Charlie and Delta -- take their names from the phonetic alphabet used by the military: Alfa, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot, etc. They take their last name and use whatever word corresponds with their initial; for example, if someone named John Smith joined them, he would go by Sierra. Murphy works with Echo and Victor occasionally, but they're not affiliated in any way except for Murphy occasionally making use of their services, so his name doesn't follow the pattern. He chose his pseudonym himself -- in true Murphy fashion, he named himself after Murphy's Law, because he's the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person.
> 
> Just in case it hasn't been clear, Echo and Victor are mated, and Charlie and Delta are mated. Also in case anyone's confused, Charlie is the Alpha that sits in the common room and guards the prisoners, and Delta is the omega that brought their meals. We haven't met Delta yet because they severely limit the amount of contact he has with their "guests" -- Delta runs most of their errands, picking stuff up at the store and the like, so the chances of him running into a former "guest" is much higher than the chances of one of the Alphas doing so. I won't be getting into Delta's backstory too much, as this whole thing is told through Thomas and Alex's POVs, and neither of them know nor care about it, but if people are interested I'll explain his connection with the Alphas, and the Alphas' connections with each other, in the end notes next chapter.


	13. The First Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a family friend coming over later, with her brood of (very quiet, very nosy) children, none of which I particularly want to stumble across me writing gay fanfiction about the Founding Fathers, so you get today's chapter early.
> 
> Alex stumbles down the rabbit-hole of despair a little more.

Alex woke up on the eighth day of his captivity to Echo snoring gently in his ear. He hadn't slept well the night before – the general stress of the situation was more than enough to give him insomnia, and the inactivity of the day didn't help things – and he took a moment to groggily survey his surroundings.

Charlie was at his usual post in the common room, playing some sort of card game. When the Alpha saw Alex looking, he winked at him. Alex was very careful to make no visual reaction as he continued his visual inspection of the area, to find nothing different than when he went to bed.

Then his body started to wake up, and he wondered if there was any way he could finagle his way out of Echo's arms to go pee without waking the Alpha up.

He needn't have worried. Echo, it seemed, was a heavy sleeper. Alex did what he had to do, then tried to decide if he could get away with not returning to Echo's arms.

No, he decided. If Echo woke to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, or the stool, or anywhere else, he would be upset. With a sigh, he slipped back between the sheets, and let the Alpha engulf him in his grasp again.

He had just dozed off again when Echo woke himself. The Alpha proceeded to nuzzle Alex's scent gland. “Wake up, Little One,” he purred in Alex's ear.

Alex, who wasn't a morning person and needed coffee to function in the morning – a drink that had been flat-out refused him, due to the caffeine – wasn't happy about having been woken just as he finally managed to get back to sleep, and didn't see why he should have to get up just because Echo was ready to begin his morning. “Mmm,” he replied, digging himself down deeper into the blankets.

Echo laughed. “You need to get up, Little One,” he said, standing up himself. “I have a surprise for you. Two surprises, actually.”

Alex was suddenly very awake. “Oh?” he asked, uncertain whether he should be happy or worried. “What kind of surprises?”

Echo walked around the bed to relieve himself, seemingly unconcerned that he had an audience. Alex was a little jealous; he hated that the design of the cell meant that he was basically peeing in front of a big glass wall, with an Alpha watching his every move on the other side, and another Alpha watching his every move behind him. “The first is that we're going to be taking a little field trip after lunch,” he said.

Worried, Alex decided. Definitely worried. “Where are we going?” he asked cautiously.

“To meet up with Murphy,” Echo told him. “The man says that he has an idea, something he wants us to do.”

Very, very worried. “Do you have any idea what it is?” he asked cautiously.

“Unfortunately, no.” Echo zipped himself up and flushed. “Don't worry, though, Little One; I won't let him hurt you again.” He sat back on the bed, and pulled Alex into his lap to nip at his jawline playfully.

Echo wouldn't let Murphy hurt Alex … as long as it wasn't beneficial to Echo and Victor's plans. They had both already proven themselves more than willing to stand back and let Murphy carve him up like a turkey at Thanksgiving Dinner if it served their purposes, however. Alex forced himself to smile as Echo brushed a strand of hair back behind his ear. “What about the other surprise?” he asked the Alpha.

“After breakfast,” Echo insisted. “Which should be coming … ah, here he is.”

Charlie must have called Delta as soon as Echo got up. Delta scowled at Alex as he brought the tray of food into the cell and set it on the table.

“Whore,” Delta muttered into Alex's ear as he passed by, out of Echo's hearing. Alex made himself not react.

“Scrambled this morning, Darlin',” Echo consoled him. Apparently the pet name was going to be a Thing. He wondered if he could get Echo to choose another. “I asked Delta to make them over easy, but I guess he heard wrong.”

Doubtful. “We can't have over easy every morning,” he said instead. “If we have our favorite every day, then it stops being special and becomes mundane.”

Echo laughed at that. “My little omega is a philosopher,” he cried, and Alex was very glad that his back was turned because the little omega couldn't stop himself from flinching at the possessive. “You like scrambled okay, though, right?”

“Scrambled is fine,” Alex reassured him as he took the plate from his hand.

They ate in silence. It felt thick to Alex, but Echo didn't seem bothered at all. Afterward, Echo stacked the plates on the tray, and went back to the bed to pull Alex onto his lap and go back to nuzzling at his scent gland.

As good as it felt, Alex couldn't relax. Not yet. “The surprise?” he reminded Echo as gently as he could.

“Yes, the surprise!” Echo said. “Give me your hand.”

Trying his best not to let the suspicion show on his face, Alex placed his hand in Echo's open palm.

“No, no, your other hand,” Echo insisted.

Suspicion growing, Alex replaced his right hand with his left. Echo immediately seized the hand and slipped something cold onto his third finger.

It was a ring. Of course it was a ring. Nothing fancy, nothing special, something that probably cost $20 at the closest Walmart. But it was still a ring, and it was still a ring that Echo had put on the third finger of his left hand.

“I know that you were upset to lose your bonding ring when you first came to live with us,” Echo said, in what had to be the largest revision of facts of an event in the history of the human species, “so we got you another to replace it.”

Dread, and something like resignation, settled in the pits of Alex's stomach as he looked at the thing resting on his finger. It didn't escape his notice how similar it was to Echo and Victor's own bonding rings.

Sweet merciful God in Heaven, they weren't going to let him go, were they? They were going to extort whatever they wanted from Thomas, keep him dancing to whatever tune it struck their fancy to play, then drop off the face of the earth with Alex in tow. He was going to live the rest of his life in this cell; his baby was going to be born right in this bed …

_React_ , a voice in the back of his mind reminded him.  _He's waiting for your reaction_ . 

Sending a mental apology to Thomas, Alex put on the most sincere smile he could possibly manage. “It's beautiful,” he managed to choke out in what he hoped was a sufficiently believable fashion.

Echo seemed to buy it, because before Alex quite knew what was happening, the Alpha was well on his way to sucking a hickey onto Alex's neck. Still, a hickey was just a bruise, so Alex let him do it, right up until a hand wandered down the front of his pyjama pants.

He wanted to jerk the hand out from where it was fondling his cock and rip Echo's face off with his fingernails. He wanted to break down and sob over how unfair all of this was. He wanted to do so many things, but what he did instead was … nothing.

They were going to meet Murphy later that day. Alex would need Echo's protection. Alex would be needing Echo's protection more and more, as the day of the Senate hearing drew closer. If letting some knothead stick it in would help guarantee that protection, Alex would let him do it. He would lay back and spread his legs and let Echo run his hand up and down the shaft of his cock, and go back to the root to fondle his stones, and …

God forgive him, _Thomas_ forgive him, he couldn't do it.

“I appreciate the gesture, I really do,” he heard himself say, “but do you mind if we not?”

The hand didn't stop what it was doing; in fact, Echo's other hand started pulling his pants off. “Is it because of Charlie?” Echo asked. “Don't worry; he's seen plenty of omega dicks before.” He was seeing Alex's omega dick right now, in fact. 

A stroke of brilliance worthy of its own sweeping saga hit him like a freight train. “I just haven't felt much like being intimate since the baby came along.” And hope and pray that Echo didn't remember that Alex didn't even know he was pregnant before he came here.

A beat of silence, then … “Of course,” Echo said easily. The hand withdrew, and Alex stifled a sigh of relief. “That makes total sense, I s'pose. Is that why you didn't want to fuck the other day?”

The day that he woke up and thought that he was back in bed with Thomas? Sure, why not? “Yes,” he said it like he was admitting something embarrassing.

Echo kissed his forehead in a way that could only be called tender. “I completely understand,” he assured Alex, to Alex's immeasurable relief. “Would you like to go outside before your bath? We have to get you all prettied up for Murphy's surprise.”

And then there was  _that_ …

_One thing at a time_ , he reminded himself, and nodded his agreement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have time to type up the backstory of our merry band of kidnappers, so you'll get it with tomorrow's chapter.


	14. The Second Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had it written up, and I couldn't wait. So I figured, what the hell? Two chapters in one day.
> 
> _**Warning: this chapter is rough!**_ There's a lot of violence and sexual assault. Here's a spoiler for those who are worried, and I'm putting it at the end of the beginning notes so that anyone who doesn't want to read the spoiler can just skip it. It's safe to start reading now, you won't miss anything. If you want the spoiler, though, here it is: nothing happens to Alex.

They had stayed outside for what had to have been two hours before Alex was escorted downstairs by the two Alphan captors. Once again, he was shown to the bath instead of the showers, and once again Echo insisted on washing him himself.

It said something about his life that the feeling of another person's hands in even the most intimate of places on his body, for the purpose of making that body clean, was beginning to feel normal.

He was rinsed, then dried off, then shaven. Being made to stand there, nude, while another man ran a razor over his face had also stopped bothering him somewhere along the way. Then Victor removed his shackles and he was allowed to dress – not sweats, he noticed. Today he was in a button-down and jeans, and even given a pair of briefs and an undershirt, and a pair of socks and sneakers. He never knew that underwear, even the wrong kind of underwear, could make him feel so happy.

At which point Echo had him sit on a chair while he blow-dried and styled his hair.

Echo, he was coming to believe, saw Alex more and more as his personal doll, to play with as he pleased. Alex was just waiting for the day that he was given a tea dress and had ribbons and those barrette things braided into his hair.

_For the baby,_ he reminded himself, as Echo cooed over him and pronounced himself pleased.

Then he was shackled again and escorted out of the bathing rooms, but they walked right past his cell and straight to the elevator. Alex tried to ignore the lump of fear that settled awkwardly in his gut, but he must have not been completely successful because Echo laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry, Little One,” he reassured Alex. “We won't let him hurt you again.”

To be quite blunt, Alex would believe that when he saw it.

Echo stopped them before the elevator, and ran his fingers over a lock of Alex's hair before sighing. “I had it perfect, too,” he muttered dejectedly.

Alex was expecting it, so it wasn't much of a surprise when the hood was suddenly covering his head and making it impossible for him to see. Nor was it a surprise when he was scooped off his feat and carried in someone's arms the rest of the way.

Then they were in the car. Like always, he was sandwiched between Victor and Echo in the backseat, while Delta drove. He wondered if the spiteful omega got any pleasure at the sight of him shackled and hooded and helpless.

Then they were there, wherever  _there_ was, and Alex was being pulled out of the backseat and again lifted in someone's arms. Victor's, by the smell of him.

“Ah, good, you're here.” That voice, that high-pitched squeaky voice, set his teeth on edge. “And you've brought the bitch, all trussed up and ready to go.”

“What is this, Murphy?” Victor asked as he set Alex down. To Alex's immense relief, the Alpha lifted the hood off his head.

“No, no, not yet!” Murphy protested, too late. Alex was about to look around, get his bearings, when Murphy was suddenly there in his face. Murphy's fingers grabbed his chin, Murphy's hand covered his eyes. The smell of Murphy filled his nostrils suddenly, too sudden to prepare himself, and he had to fight down the waves of panic that came out of nowhere and threatened to wash over him.

“Murphy, I repeat, what is this?” Victor sounded less than amused, which was just fine by Alex.

“ 'This' is the film site of the little video we're going to send the Senator, to remind him of exactly what's at stake.” Murphy almost sounded proud.

“First of all, hands off the guest; we've talked about this.” There was a little slapping noise and a hiss of indignation as Victor whacked Murphy's hands away. “Second of all, no.”

“What?! _Why?!”_ Murphy whined as Alex took in his surroundings.

There was a camcorder on a tripod, all set up and ready to film, as expected. What wasn't expected was the quality of the electronic; this wasn't a $80 special at Sears. This camera cost someone in the four digits, possibly even the upper four digits. Whatever unpleasant things Murphy wanted to do to him, it would be filmed in ultra hi-def and mailed to Thomas at almost Hollywood quality.

In front of the camera, two shackles hung from the ceiling, just at the right height to force his hands above his head. To either side of the shackles, where they would be out of the camera's lens frame, two large lights were set up and pointed towards where he would stand.

Unsurprising and predictable, he reminded himself through his suddenly dry mouth. He'd been there before and survived it just fine; he'd survive it again if Victor lost their argument.

Then he saw the little table off to the side, behind even the lights, and he would have sworn he felt his heart stop for a moment. There was a riding crop, sitting there ready to be used. There was an extra pair of shackles. There was something else that he could just barely … condoms, he realized, as he felt the blood drain from his face. There was a roll of condoms.

He suddenly realized exactly what Murphy wanted to do to him on camera.

“Because we've talked about these little pornos of yours before,” Victor was saying. “They're violent and unnecessary, and I'm not subjecting a perfectly healthy omega to any more, _much less_ one that's _pregnant._ For Christ's sake, Murphy, he'll lose the baby!”

Echo, where was Echo? Echo would stop this madness. He stepped to the man's side and buried his face in the man's armpit, for once not having to fight a wave of revulsion at the contact, because this? This was a hundred times worse than anything Echo had ever done to him.

To his immense relief, Echo's arms wrapped around him. Echo smelled  _pissed_ . Echo smelled pissed, and Alex had never loved the smell on him so much, because a pissed Echo meant he wouldn't be put in those shackles, wouldn't be …

“We don't have to be that rough!” Murphy was insisting. “I know that in the past I've been a little … enthusiastic … in front of the camera, but I don't have to be. I won't even touch the brat, I'll just film. You two can do whatever and however much you feel comfortable with.”

“These videos are meant to be a punishment for uncooperative marks!” Victor was shouting now. “Not incentive, punishment!”

“Oh, for … Jesus Christ, you're already fucking him! Just fuck him on camera, that's all I'm asking!”

“I am not fucking him!” Echo spoke up for the first time.

That seemed to take Murphy aback. “What?” he asked, shocked.

“I haven't fucked him, not once, since he came to us eight days ago.”

“ 'Came to us',” Murphy sneered. “Since you kidnapped him, you mean.”

Echo paused. “Yes,” he finally admitted. “That's what I mean.”

“ _Why the fuck not?!”_

“Because ...” Echo paused, as if realizing that Murphy wouldn't be impressed with his reasoning. “Because he doesn't want to. With the baby, you know, he doesn't want-”

“Oh, the baby, the baby,” Murphy mocked. “You're not running a hotel, dumbass. What he wants doesn't matter; if you want it, you bend him over the closest horizontal surface and you put it in. If he whines, you gag him; if he squirms, you bind him. Or should we ask him if he even _wants_ to be with you, hmm? Maybe we should ask if he _wants_ to go home?”

Alex didn't dare look to see how Echo had taken this little speech, but he needn't have worried. “You're an ass, you know that?” Echo sneered at Murphy.

“Yeah, but I'm an ass that _gets what I want,”_ Murphy replied. “For fuck's sake, look at him! He's all over you! He even smells like you! He couldn't want it more if he bent over and-” He stopped mid-sentence as a thoughtful look crossed his face. “He smells like you ...” Murphy repeated.

Echo frowned, but reached down to scent at the gland behind Alex's ear. “He's taken on our pack scent,” he agreed, shocked. “I hadn't noticed.”

“Come here, ya little slut,” Murphy hissed suddenly. Alex looked up and nearly had a heart attack when he saw that Murphy had pulled out his knife.

“Murphy,” Echo warned.

“Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt him.” A pause. “Although look at him; he's terrified. If I asked him to bend over and present right now, he'd piss himself trying to obey fast enough. _That's_ how you get what you want.”

“Fucking an omega who's pissed himself?”

“You know what I mean,” Murphy shot him a dirty look as he reached for Alex. Alex flinched back, but Murphy just cut off another lock of hair. “Now, we'll just do this ...” he rubbed the lock across Alex's scent gland, “... and then we – Jesus Christ, is this _scented?_ did you _perfume his hair?_ – we send this to the Senator.” He waved the now-scented lock in Echo's face. “Does that meet your standards, O Sensitive One?”

“It's fine with me,” Echo said. “Victor?”

Alex looked up to see Victor watching him, an interesting expression on his face. “Fine by me,” he echoed.

“Good, good,” Murphy said absentmindedly, his full attention on the lock of hair in his hand.

Alex was almost relieved when the hood came back over his head, because it meant he could let someone else's knees have a turn supporting his weight – his own suddenly felt weak.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should actually be the last of the really heartbreaking chapters. It's pretty downhill from here. Be sure to tell me in the comments just how much you hate me for putting Alex through that! :D


	15. The Third Surprise

It was the next morning, two days before the Senate hearing, when Thomas found out. He came downstairs that morning to absolute pandemonium. Representatives from the various agencies that had decided to camp out in his living room were talking into cell phones and bluetooth headsets and typing into laptops and fiddling with equipment that Thomas didn't recognize or understand. Over all there loomed a spirit of panic, a general sense that  _something_ had gone wrong, and all everyone could do was catch up as fast as they could and control the damage to the best of their ability.

He looked for a familiar face in the sea of people in suits and button-downs, and finally saw George. Thomas felt an overwhelming feeling of appreciation for the man; he had slept in one of Thomas' guest bedrooms every night since the ransom call, making both his friendship and the vast resources of his office available to Thomas and, by extension, to Alex. He also seemed to always be the person in the know in every situation; whatever had gone wrong, George would know. Thomas started towards the man, but never made it.

“Have you read the paper this morning?” Sampson was suddenly there, ambushing him from seemingly out of nowhere.

“I just got up,” Thomas admitted. “What's wrong; what happened?!”

“See for yourself,” Sampson responded, shoving a tablet into his hands. Thomas took it from her, and looked at the screen – first with trepidation, then with shock.

“Know that no action will be taken against you if you answer in the affirmative,” Sampson said. “But I have to ask: was this you? Did you talk to the press?”

“Of course not!” Thomas spat out, shocked and a little offended that she would have to ask. “I would never … not when you said that it might ...”

“All right, all right,” Sampson soothed him. “The article just mentions an inside source; and to be honest, there are details there that shouldn't be readily available to the casual bystander.”

“Starting with the headline,” Thomas muttered sardonically. With a feeling of impending doom, he began to read.

* * *

It was the same morning when Alex found out. He had been fed and bathed, and Echo had him settled in his lap to nuzzle and nip at his jaw while they watched TV, when the news came on.

He was only half paying attention to the TV, more focused on making sure he held still and didn't flinch away from Echo's attentions, when he heard the news anchor say his name. He  _did_ pull away then, trying to hear what they were saying.

**SECRETARY OF THE TREASURY DEPARTMENT GOES MISSING**

That headline appeared below the news anchor at her desk, while his photo hovered above her left shoulder. “Current Secretary of the Treasury, Alexander Hamilton, hasn't been seen at his office at the Treasury Building in over a week,” she began. “A large group of law enforcement officials, from a variety of different agencies, have been seen coming and going from the home he shares with his mate, Senator Thomas Jefferson, in Alexandria.” The picture cut to a grainy video of his house, obviously taken with a cell phone. They were trying to be discreet, he'd give them that, but there was simply no way to move a few dozen people that looked so much like cops in and out of a private home without drawing attention.

Behind him, he felt Echo stiffen.

“A source from one of these agencies, who has asked to remain anonymous, confirms that Senator Jefferson has received a ransom note, and is reviewing his options with a number of different sources.” The video kept rolling, and a man who looked suspiciously like Washington entered his house, three men in suits in tow. “Although we can't know for sure what that note says, there is some suggestion that the intended target is, not Senator Jefferson, but Secretary Hamilton's boss, President George Washington.” A car pulled past for just a moment, barely notable at all, and would have been utterly forgettable, if not for the “Department of Homeland Security” blazoned across the doors. “If that is the case, this country may see its first treason case since the 1940s. Here to explain just what that means is our correspo-”

The television screen went blank as Echo turned it off. For several moments, there was just silence.

Alex didn't see the problem. This was going to get out eventually, right? Especially with their particularly nosy neighbors. He remembered when they were first bonded, and Thomas had brought him to the townhouse-

“You're the Secretary of the Treasury?” Echo cut into his thoughts.

Of all the questions the Alpha may have for him, this wasn't one he was expecting. “Yes?” he answered, unsure of where this was going.

“ _The_ Secretary? Not _a_ secretary?”

“ _The_ Secretary of the Treasury, yes,” he responded.

Silence again. Then: “How the hell did an omega become a member of the President's Cabinet?!”

Alex huffed. “How the hell do you not know this?” he retorted. “I thought you looked me up?”

“Of course we looked you up! We looked at everything! Our papers specifically said that you were serving as _a_ secretary at the Treasury Building.” Echo was shaking now. Alex figured that possibly being charged with treason could do that to a person. “Why didn't you tell us?!?”

“Why didn't _I_ tell _you_?” Alex bit out. “You never asked? For fuck's sake, you know what medications I take! You've seen my medical history! I figured, if you could – illegally, I might add – get a copy of my medical records, you could certainly manage to find your way to my Twitter or Wiki page.”

Echo closed his eyes, then, and appeared to be in pain. “I told Victor!” he hissed. “I told him, I told him we should google you. I told him that we didn't want any surprises. But he insisted that the reports were always thorough, that there was nothing that the internet could tell us that-”

He stood abruptly. Without another word, he entered the code and left the cell. For the first time since they had brought Alex to this horrible place, Echo wasn't careful to make sure that Alex couldn't see the numbers he had punched in. Alex craned his neck to see, but was only quick enough to catch the last two numbers.

Echo stopped by the table in the common room and muttered something to Charlie. For the first time since they had brought Alex to this horrible place, Alex saw Charlie look afraid. The man hissed something at Echo, Echo hissed something back and left, and Charlie turned to stare wide-eyed at Alex.

Something bitter and spiteful bubbled up in Alex's chest. He winked at the Alpha and blew him a kiss.

Charlie's stare turned nasty, then thoughtful. One thing was sure, even if Alex had caught the entire code, he wasn't going to be able to do anything about it for awhile.

But awhile was what he had. It was quiet in the cells for the rest of the morning, and well into the afternoon.

* * *

Thomas was just getting his eight cup of coffee for the day when the FBI agent whose name he still hadn't learned came up to him, a triumphant smile on his face. “There's been a development,” the man told him, in the tone of voice one uses when they're trying to remain professional despite great excitement.

“What's happened?” Thomas asked him, stirring the sugar into his mug.

“Do you remember those two agents I've had watching the warehouse that the kidnappers called from?” the man asked. “The ones that we worried would be a waste of time?”

Thomas remembered this man lecturing him not to give in to his kidnappers' demands, is what Thomas remembered. “Vaguely,” he hedged.

“Well, they found someone snooping around just an hour ago.”

“What?” Thomas asked, shocked. There was a tinkling noise as he dropped the spoon he was stirring with onto the counter. “Who was it?”

“Well, that's the thing,” the agent said, smug. “The suspect is a male Alpha, on the small size. He claims to be nobody, just a local who was nosing around the area, looking for scrap. But my agents were suspicious, thinking that it may be one of the kidnappers coming back to the scene of the crime, as it were, and something about the man just rubbed them wrong, so they compared him to our copy of the ransom call we got six days ago.”

Thomas braced himself against the counter while the agent took a swallow of his own coffee. “And?”

“And we think that we've caught Murphy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end of Alex and Thomas' nightmare.


	16. The Confirmation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so late, but I decided at the very last minute that I wanted to split this chapter up into two chapters and do something different with the first half.

Of course Echo had turned off the power to the cells when he went up, making it so that Alex couldn't watch television. Of course he had. Alex would have liked to have seen what the expert correspondent had to say about the whole mess, and just how close to the truth they had gotten, but no.

There wasn't even enough light in this artificial underground night to play cards by. The deck that had been given him when he first came here sat unused on the small table by his bed.

Really, the only thing there was to do was sleep. Alex pretended that he couldn't feel Charlie's thoughtful gaze on him as he curled up on the bed and dozed off.

Echo woke him some time later. “Wake up, Little One,” the Alpha cooed, setting the tray of food down onto the table to caress Alex's cheek. The revelation of exactly who he was hadn't changed much, he supposed. “Are you hungry?”

With a sigh, Alex obediently sat up. And noticed a tightening around Echo's eyes that hadn't been there when he left the cell some hours ago.

Maybe something had changed, after all.

“Come on, now,” Echo continued, sitting at the head of the bed and pulling Alex onto his lap. Alex didn't protest; it was a position he had become very familiar with over the past week. “Gotta keep your strength up, for the baby.”

Alex wasn't quite sure what Echo was going on about. It wasn't like he could get to the plate on the tray in this position. He was just trying to decide exactly how to point this out when a fork of food suddenly materialized in front of his face. He frowned at it, and started to protest being spoon-fed, but Echo took the opportunity to shove the forkful in and Alex had no choice but to chew it.

“See?” Echo cooed, but was there a hint of something strained in his voice? “It's good.”

“Thank you, Echo, but I'm perfectly capable of fee-uuh!”

Echo bit him. The son of a bitch bit him, in the thick muscle where his neck met his shoulders. It wasn't hard enough to break skin, but it was more than hard enough to hurt; and it was definitely hard enough to get his point across.

It was a show of dominance, through and through, and Alex's instincts told him to submit to the Alpha. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he obeyed those instincts. Echo, pleased, continued to feed him the rest of his dinner.

After the plate was cleared, Alex hoped that maybe Echo would be satisfied, but no. Instead, the Alpha pulled him in even tighter, one hand on Alex's chest and the other snaking under his shirt to rest on his stomach. The man began to kiss his jawline, before moving down his throat and mouthing at his clavicle. Alex began to protest, and got bit again for his trouble. He got the message and shut up.

“Do you want to watch _Wheel of Fortune?”_ Echo asked suddenly, already reaching for the remote. Alex said nothing, just watched the television with a sense of detachment.

Something was wrong. Something had happened. He could practically feel the tension in the air.

He looked at Charlie again, but the man was apparently still smarting over Alex's early sign of defiance and watched Echo clutch Alex like a child clutching its safety blanket with a smirk on his face.

They were halfway through _Jeopardy!_ when the elevator dinged and Victor came into view. He entered the cell, Charlie not far behind, and cleared his throat to get Echo's attention. Neither man acknowledged Alex's presence, or even just how painfully tightly Echo was holding him.

“Murphy isn't answering his phone,” Victor said, holding up his own phone as if it was evidence that validated what he was saying. Alex stared at it, shocked; it was the first time he had seen either Alpha enter his cell without putting their cell phones on the table first, likely so that he couldn't sneak it out of their pocket and call for help or something. Victor saw Alex staring, and seemed to realize what he had done; immediately, he put the phone away.

It didn't matter, anyway; Victor was too far away for Alex to reach with the ankle chain on, and even if he wasn't Echo was holding him too tightly for him to reach as far as the end of the bed.

“That's not like him,” Charlie offered. “The bloke's punctual to a fault, especially this close to a payout.” He followed that statement with a significant glance in Alex's direction, which only served to make Echo's grip on the omega tighten even further.

“Echo, we need to talk about … damage control,” Victor said, with a significant glance toward Alex of his own. “Somewhere private.”

“Why does it matter?” Echo asked defiantly. “No one here is going to blab our secrets to anyone.”

The statement wasn't consequential in and of itself – they were completely correct, Alex wasn't in a position to tell secrets to anyone outside of the three Alphas standing in his cell until those Alphas saw fit to free him – except for the darting little glances Victor and Charlie were suddenly shooting his way, conspicuous in their desire to be inconspicuous.

Echo wasn't just talking about the duration of their arrangement with Thomas. He wasn't talking about a period of time that would end after the Senate hearing.

“You aren't letting me go, are you?” he asked the three men.

No one answered him, which was all the answer he needed. There was complete silence for a good five count, until Charlie cursed under his breath.

“I was really hoping to keep him pliant for the next few days, at least,” Victor muttered in agreement.

“You had a deal, an arrangement, with my mate!” Alex cried out. “He's tanking the bill for my freedom. What are you going to do when you don't hold up your end of the bargain and he sends all the resources at his disposal to track you down and bring me back?!”

Victor snorted in sarcastic amusement. “You mean the resources he's already expending?” he pointed out. “Face it, Little One, if there was any way for your belovèd mate to find us, he would have already. There's absolutely nothing to tie us to you.”

“You'll make a mistake eventually. Something will lead him to you, will _make_ that connection.”

“We haven't yet, have we?” Charlie smirked at him.

Alex snorted himself in response, and looked pointedly at Victor. “Eventually, I'll notice the cellphone before you do.” It was Alex's turn to smirk at the protective way Victor put his hand over the pocket his phone was in.

“Enough,” Echo said, drawing him back. “Soon you'll be too wrapped up in caring for the baby to worry about things like that.” And he put both hands on Alex's stomach, beneath his shirt.

Alex was very, very grateful that the thought of them not letting him go had occurred to him before now, that he had had the chance to get somewhat used to the idea – at least enough to think without the concept overwhelming him. “And then what?” he asked. “What will you tell the doctor who performs my examinations? What will you tell the doctor who attends the birth? Pretty sure he's gonna notice something like his patient _being fucking shackled to the fucking bed!”_

“He would,” Victor agreed. “If he were an outsider.”

Charlie's face was twisted into a cruel smile as he ran his finger down Alex's face. “Did I ever tell you that my Delta is a licensed nurse?” he sneered at Alex.

“Won't it be better, having a fellow omega taking care of the medical side of things?” Echo asked, obviously trying to keep the conversation more pleasant.

Charlie was having none of it. He smelled blood, and he'd be damned if he didn't take a bite. “Have you thought of any names for the baby yet?” he asked Echo.

The question hit Alex in the gut so hard it took his breath away. “You can't ...” he began, but found he couldn't complete the sentence.

It didn't matter. Smelling the same wound that Charlie had, Victor leaned down to cup Alex's face in his hands. “We can,” he said. “We will. Accept it, Little One.”

Charlie seemed compelled to take it the next step further. “It would be so much better for everyone involved if you could be a part of the baby's life,” he said with only the faintest hint of a sneer.

They left him with that thought, then, going somewhere to plan where he couldn't hear. It didn't matter; they could have planned anything they wanted right there, in his cell, and he wouldn't have heard a word.

He had always known that they wanted him and wanted the baby. It had never occurred to him that those wants may be completely separate from one another.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the cat's out of the bag now. Alex knows where he stands.
> 
> I was going to give you guys the promised backstory for our baddies, but I'm still crazy exhausted from the weekend (both the guests we had stay over as well as the time change, and whoever thought up Daylight Savings Time deserves to be taken out back and shot). I just can't seem to English coherently at the moment. It'll go up with the next chapter.


	17. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over. I promised you guys an ending to this freak show, and here it is. Prepare yourselves; there's no further threat to Alex of any kind, but Echo isn't giving up without a fight.
> 
> In other news, it's finally happened, as I knew it would: Google decided that the reason I've been doing all this research into pregnancy is that I'm expecting myself, and I got my first email from Gerber. Something to look forward to for the next few months, lol.

If Alex could figure out a way to escape, this would be the time. He was alone on this floor and completely unguarded for the first time he could remember. Unfortunately, he still didn't have the code either for his cell door or the elevator. And he simply didn't have the brain power at the moment to try and figure them out.

Instead, he turned on the television, trying to distract himself from the conversation he had just had – and the horrible realities that it had revealed – but just ended up staring uncomprehending at the moving shapes on the screen.

He had a vague hope that, perhaps, if he could watch the evening news, he could gleam some more information about his situation and about what the outside world thought of it, but around 10 o'clock Charlie came back downstairs, announced, “lights out!” and flipped the switch to cut power to the cells before Alex could even process what he had said. Echo followed not too long after and wrapped his body around Alex's.

“They didn't mean it,” Echo cooed into his hair. “We'll never separate you from the baby. We've already got a nice room upstairs picked out for a nursery – nicer than this cell – it has an en suite bathroom, even! You can help us pick out a theme for the baby, and we'll paint the room and pick out the crib and it will be lovely. You'll see.” Alex said nothing as his mumbling reassurances became less and less coherent as the Alpha drifted to sleep.

The next morning, Echo woke Alex up by stroking his cheek. As soon as he saw that Alex was awake, he turned on the television so they could watch together as they had done so many times before; but the news was on, and the anchor was again talking about Alex's disappearance, and Echo turned it off so fast it seemed almost reflexive. Instead, the Alpha went up to get breakfast and came back empty handed. With no explanation, he sat back on the bed and pulled Alex into his lap.

Alex had gotten used to that position over the past nine days, but this was different. Instead of back-to-chest, he twisted Alex around so that Alex was sitting chest-to-chest, with Alex's legs wrapped around Echo's waist, and hugged him to himself with a strength Alex found uncomfortable. Alex went to tell him so, but as soon as he took a breath to speak he found his face buried in the Alpha's chest, Echo's hand in his hair.

Alex had no idea how long they sat there. Echo did nothing but squeeze Alex and rock back and forth, didn't even so much as talk to him. Neither man even looked up as the door to the cell opened – Echo because he was too immersed in whatever trance he had entered, and Alex because he physically could not.

He could smell Victor's scent, however, before the man began to speak. “It's time to go, Echo,” the other Alpha said gently.

“I want to take him with us,” Echo said, in the voice of someone who knows they're being petulant but doesn't care.

“We can't, Echo,” Victor said. “If we bring him with us they'll just keep hunting us until they find us. And they _will_ find us.”

“No, they won't,” Echo replied. “They won't! We'll hide better this time, and we'll meet potential clients at a neutral location.”

“Yes, Honey, they will.” Alex watched out of the corner of his eye as Victor lovingly ran his hand over Echo's jaw, much the way Echo had done to him so many times. “I know I said yesterday that they won't, but I was … wrong. This man is a personal friend of the President of the United States, and has one of the most well-connected and wealthiest Senators as a mate. He has friends with deep pockets and long arms, in other words, and those friends won't stop until they've tracked us down and gotten their omega back.”

“But I want him!” Echo cried.

“No you don't,” Alex interjected, but with his face buried as it was in Echo's shirt it came out muddled and incomprehensible.

“I know you do, Baby,” Victor cooed, with a hint of sadness in his voice. “I just wish I had known that you needed an omega this badly.”

“I didn't know myself,” Echo admitted. “Not until Little One came into our lives. It just … feels so right. Like he belongs here, with us.”

“But he doesn't,” Victor reminded him. “He belongs with his family, with the Senator. You knew this, we both knew this, from the beginning. He was only going to be with us for a time.”

“He could, though,” Echo cried, desperate. “He could belong with us.”

“No, he couldn't.” Victor climbed onto the bed, and Alex suddenly found himself sandwiched between the two Alphas. “Look at him, Echo. _Smell_ him. He's pregnant by another Alpha.”

“That doesn't matter,” Echo insisted. “I'd be happy with the baby, I would. We could make it ours.”

“Oh, Benny,” Victor sighed. “No, we couldn't. We really couldn't.”

“No you couldn't,” Alex agreed into Echo's shirt.

“Can he breathe okay?” Victor asked Echo. In response, Echo let go of Alex's hair and let him up.

Alex spent a moment just breathing, before turning to Echo and trying to ignore just how uncomfortably close their faces were. “You don't want me, Echo, you really don't. I promise.”

“Oh, Little One; yes I do!” Echo reached over to bury Alex's face in his chest again, but Alex dodged the hand.

“No you don't! You don't even know anything about me. Do you even know my name? My real name, not 'Little One'?”

“It's … Alexander,” Echo said, but the pause before the name told Alex everything he needed to know.

“And would you have known that if we hadn't seen my name and face plastered all over the news?” he asked, trying very hard to keep as much of the venom out of his voice as possible.

Echo didn't answer, which was an answer all by itself.

“You know nothing about me,” Alex continued. “You know nothing about who I really am, and you don't even like me.”

“Oh, Baby, of course I like you,” Echo soothed Alex, but Alex wasn't done.

“No, you don't, because the only times I've ever shown any personality I've been punished for it. Have you forgotten last night?”

Victor was looking a little guilty and Echo looked devastated by that reminder, but Alex was a long way from finished.

“You don't like me; you like the _idea_ of me. You like the _idea_ of a pet omega; and there's nothing wrong with that! Thousands of Alphan couples across the entire country keep omegas, sometimes multiple omegas, and they all have meaningful, fulfilling relationships. Hell, even the President keeps a pet. But it only works when it comes from a place of mutual respect among equals.

“We would never work, because you don't respect me, and we sure as hell aren't equals. In fact, this relationship is about as far from equal as it's possible to be, and I know this because the only reason I'm here at all is because I'm _literally chained to the fucking bed.”_

Echo looked like he had been punched in the gut, like Alex had ripped out his heart. Alex watched a tear make its way down the Alpha's cheek.

“But now you know! Now you know that you want a relationship with an omega, and now you can start looking for one! You're a great guy, and there are tons of omegas out there who will actually _want_ to be in a relationship with you; both of you.” He glanced over his shoulder to include Victor; the lie wasn't going to hurt anything. “But it's not me.” He took a breath. “I have my Alpha, and we're very happy together. We're going to have a baby. And you can have that, too! You can have all of that.” He paused. “But before you do, you have to let me go.”

Six short beeps and a double-beep made all three men jump. “We have to go,” Charlie announced. “I heard it on the scanner; Murphy just flipped, and the cops are on their way. They'll be here in an hour; we need to be gone in half that.”

Alex kept his eyes on Echo, holding the Alpha's gaze. He took the now-weeping man's face in his hands and wiped away a tear with his thumb. “Benny, you have to let me go.”

Benny was suddenly sobbing, and buried his face in Alex's shoulder. Alex started to comfort the man, running his hand over the Alpha's hair, and turned to the concerned Victor and the confused Charlie. “If the cops are on their way, you can just leave me here.”

Victor nodded in response. “And you won't send the CIA or whatever after us?” he asked as Charlie began to dismantle the electronic door lock.

“No,” Alex promised, still petting Echo. “You let me go freely, I'll let it be. I can't speak for my mate, though, or for George.”

“Who's Geo- oh, shit.” Victor nodded, nervously running his fingers through his own hair. “That's fair, I s'pose,” he said. 

In the end, they left him shackled, with the key to his restraints laying on the table in the common room. Charlie took the locks off of each of the four cells – “D'ya have any idea how much these puppies  _cost?!”_ – as well as the television sets, put everything on a cart of some sort, and practically ran off without another word. Alex watched Victor help the still-sobbing Echo out of what was once a cell and to the elevator, nodded to Victor and smiled in response to Echo's wave, and watched the elevator doors close behind them.

And just like that, it was over. This ordeal, this fucking horror of a nightmare, was over. Alex held his face in his hands and just sobbed in relief and horror until the _ding_ of the elevator announced that the cops had found him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've promised you guys a backstory for our merry band of kidnappers, and I'm sorry that it's taken so long to deliver.
> 
> Charlie, Echo, and Victor all served together in the military during the Second Revolutionary War. They were all three Navy SEALS on the same team. As the war progressed, Echo and Victor found that they had a gift for extraction -- whether those being extracted wanted their services or not -- and guarding / keeping safe their targets afterwards. Those skills didn't exactly translate well into civilian life, so the two mates improvised. Their teammate and buddy, Charlie, whose specialty was electronics, joined the team.
> 
> Some notes on Charlie: the dude's insane. He does most of the electronic work for the team -- cloning cell phones, setting up security systems, that sort of thing -- and guards the "guests". He does this because he can't be trusted in the cells with the prisoners -- he's not violent per se, but when under pressure or excited he tends to get ... enthusiastic ... about application of force. So they stick him outside in the common room where he can see inside all four cells and let him give the stink eye to every prisoner who even thinks about approaching the door to their cell. Even if they do find out the code, they can't get out because Charlie would be there before they got more than two numbers typed, let alone trying to hotwire the lock or something like that. Charlie also doesn't sleep -- he has trained himself over the years to exist purely by catnapping a few times a day, often with his eyes open. The two traits -- not sleeping and getting violent when excited -- may be connected. Echo and Victor offered to hire another guy to spell him, but Charlie insists that he wants to be there all the time. So except for short breaks to get something to eat or use the bathroom or fuck Delta, he's on duty 24/7 when they have a prisoner in the cells.
> 
> Delta was a mistake, their biggest other than not researching Alex further than they did. They weren't working through a contractor for that job, but were working with the client directly. After doing their research, they decided that the mark's biggest weakness was his omega, and acted accordingly. However, they knew something was off almost immediately, as that omega began begging them _not_ to give him back to his Alpha. When contacted with ransom demands, the Alpha laughed and hung up the phone. Come to find out, the mark was an abusive dick who treated his omegas more like slaves than romantic partners. They found another angle to get at the mark, and were going to sell the omega (much like they threatened to do with Alex), but by then Charlie was completely smitten. So they dubbed him "Delta" and brought him on with them. Delta does most of the chores of the group -- driving the car, cooking the meals, picking up supplies, that sort of thing. He also has as little contact with the "guests" as possible, so if they meet afterwards in the supermarket or whatever they won't recognize him. Delta, as you can imagine, has severe separation anxiety. That's why he's so cruel to Alex; he's worried that "Hotel" is going to become the new Delta.
> 
> Murphy isn't part of the team, but is a separate entity entirely. He has no background in the military or law enforcement or anything like that, and no formal schooling. He's just a sociopath that gets off on hurting others, and takes masochistic delight in other's pain. To be completely honest, he isn't as smart or as skilled as he thinks he is, and the only reason that it took so long for him to be caught was a combination of his subcontractors' skill keeping him safe and dumb luck. He panicked when he found out who Alex was and heard the word "terrorism" on the news and went back to the warehouse to make sure they hadn't left anything to connect him to Alex, then was going to wash his hands of the whole thing and leave Echo and Victor holding the bag.
> 
> If you have any further questions about the baddies, or about anything else, feel free to comment! Or just tell me how glad you are that Alex is saved, or how sad you are that we're getting close to the end!


	18. The Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little shorter, but jam packed with feels. Have the tissues ready.

When they came, they came in force. Several dozen burly Alphas, dressed in black body armor with the word POLICE blazoned across the front. He assured them that he was alone, that there was no one else in the building, but they ignored him and cleared the place room by room anyway. Which was fair, he supposed. Then they came back and had him sit where he was while they photographed him in his chains, for evidence, before finally getting to the releasing part of the rescue. They had some sort of metal cutting saw halfway through the chain holding him to the bed before he was able to make them understand that the key was on the table.

And just like that, he was free. Mostly.

The paramedics that came down wouldn't let him walk out. Instead, he was lifted onto a gurney and made to lie there while they wheeled him out. He watched the rooms disappear one by one behind them, and reflected on the fact that, even though he had come and gone several times from this place, he had never done so under his own power.

The place turned out to be an old abandoned warehouse, cultivated carefully to look like no one has set foot inside for years. One entire section upstairs had caved in. The paramedics wheeled his gurney through the thigh-high grass, parting for him like waves before the keel of a ship, as he studied every rotting board and rusting panel for the first time.

Outside, however, was anything but abandoned. Representatives for just about every law enforcement agency he could think of swarmed around like bees around the first flowers to bloom in spring. The SWAT team who had found him we're joined by the FBI, the local county police department, Virginia State Police, Homeland Security, even the Secret Service for some reason. Two officers walked past with their dogs; another group got dressed in a blast suit to check for explosives.

Despite his assurances that he was fine, his gurney was rolled directly into an ambulance, and that ambulance driven away immediately. At the last second, two Alphas in black suits jumped in the back with him and the EMTs, their job apparently to look around the bus casually and try not to look bored.

He wondered who the two Alphas were. He wondered why the EMTs weren't accepting that he wasn't injured. He wondered where they were going. He wondered if they had caught Victor and Echo. But most of all, the most important thing he wondered, was, “when can I see Thomas?”

One of the EMTs, a beta, smiled brightly at him. One look and Alex could already tell that he was the kind that treated all omegas like three year old children, and instantly hated him for it. “Don't you worry,” the man told him. “Your Alpha will meet us at the hospital.”

That was fair. “Alright,” he told the beta, but the man had already moved on.

They found the healing cuts on his cheek and the almost-healed cut on his scalp (“this is why you don't trust patients to tell you if they're hurt,” the beta muttered to his team low enough that Alex didn't think he was supposed to hear), and the bite mark on his shoulder. They rolled up his pants leg and bandaged his ankle where the shackle had rubbed the skin raw despite the padding. He was hooked up to an IV, even though he wasn't dehydrated; he was hooked up to various monitors, even though he was perfectly stable. By that time they were at the hospital, and all those monitors had to come back off. The IV hooked into his gurney and went with him.

So did the EMTs. He had expected them to pass him off to the ER staff and stay with the ambulance, but they walked right in with him. They were joined by other ER doctors and nurses, an armada hovering over his gurney flagship. Even more surprising, the two Alphas in the suits followed behind.

He was wheeled into a room and there lost a good half of the armada while the remaining staff hooked him up to _their_ monitors. The beep-beep-beep of his pulse suddenly filled the room. An identifying bracelet was placed around his wrist. The unpleasant beta continued to examine him for injuries, which was fine, until the man started trying to remove clothes and he was back in the cell, in the showers, with Echo undressing him, Echo lowering him into the bathtub, Echo running his hands all over his body, and he did now what he couldn't do then, which was to snarl at the beta to take his hands off his body. He listened to the sounds of fury coming from deep in his chest – not nearly as impressive as an Alpha's growls or even a beta's, but effective nonetheless – but the beta must not have listened because the beta ignored him, still trying to pull off his tee while assuring him that it was okay, that they were just checking for boo-boos, so Alex bit him.

The instant pandemonium was oddly satisfying. The beta was ushered away to have his hand bandaged and treated with antibiotics, and very suddenly Alex found himself alone in the room save for the two suited men.

The one on the left gave him a thumbs up.

Alex still wasn't entirely sure who they were and why they were here. He suddenly wasn't sure if biting the doctor would come back to hurt him. He wasn't sure what would happen next. But all that was okay, all that was great even, because then someone walked through the door and he looked up and it was Thomas.

* * *

Thomas got the call at exactly 1:48pm. His FBI agent informed him that they had a location. They couldn't promise anything – Murphy could be lying, or his partners could have realized that something had gone wrong and left – but if Thomas would like he could meet them there, just in case.

He texted Samuel and George, while struggling to get his shoes and wallet. George texted back that he would meet him there, while Samuel texted that he'd have the Mercedes around front in three minutes.

Thomas was in the Mercedes and speeding away in two, but had only gone a few miles when the agent texted him again to tell him that they had Alex, that Alex was fine, and that Alex would be at the Georgetown Memorial Hospital.

And just like that, it was over.

Thomas always forgot how small Alex really was. His mate just had such a large personality, and such a large voice that said such large ideas. It was hard to remember, sometimes, that all that gusto came in such a small package.

Thomas remembered now, standing in the doorway of Alex's room in the ER. His mate looked so tiny, laying in a hospital bed, the monitors beeping quietly around him. Except for his security detail he was alone in his room, looking utterly lost.

Then Alex looked up and saw him, and Thomas found his legs propelling him forward before he had quite gotten around to telling them to do so. The hospital around them was forgotten as Alex sat up to greet him. Thomas wrapped his arms around Alex, and Alex wrapped his arms around Thomas and jumped up to wrap his legs around his waist, and Thomas twirled them around – careful of the tubes and sensors – and buried his face in Alex's neck and just inhaled. Alex smelled _different,_ he smelled of several strange Alphas; but underneath all that was something that was irrefutably _Alex_ and that was all that mattered.

“Hamilton,” Thomas said as he pulled back to study his mate's face, the face that he was never letting out of his sight ever again, “you reek.”

Then Alex was laughing, then Alex was crying, then Thomas was crying, and all either man could seem to do was hold the other a little tighter and cry at the sheer relief of being able to do just that again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm editing this chapter to note that there will only be two more chapters, for a total of 20! I'll give you the countdown next chapter, as well; no worries.


	19. The Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this!

When they were finally finished laughing and crying and kissing and squeezing one another and burying their faces in the other's neck to inhale huge nosefuls of the other's scent, Thomas set Alex back on the bed. Alex immediately scooted over, and Thomas hesitated only briefly before toeing off his shoes and crawling under the covers beside him.

Alex had worried that after Echo, cuddling with his mate would be difficult. But Echo and Thomas were night and day. Thomas cared about Alex and his comfort; Echo had cared only about himself. So as Thomas wrapped his arms around Alex, Alex found himself comfortably sinking himself into those arms.

That comfortable feeling lasted exactly as long as it took the doctor to come in. Alex recognized the female beta as being in the group that had brought him in. By the look in her face, she recognized Alex as the omega who had bitten her colleague.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she greeted him unenthusiastically. “Senator Jefferson.” She turned to Thomas, completely ignoring Alex now. “We'd like to run a few tests and do a basic examination to make sure that your mate hasn't suffered any harm from his ... ordeal.”

“Absolutely,” Thomas said immediately, and while Alex understood why he wouldn't hesitate, it still stung a little.

His throat went dry at the thought. They were going to strip him down, pour their eyes over his skin, run their hands over his body, put their hand down his pants and fondle him-

“No,” Alex said. “Absolutely not.”

The doctor pursed her lips, displeased with his interruption and obviously ready to fight, but Thomas beat her to it. “Why not, Darlin'?” he asked, nothing but concern on his face.

Alex ignored the doctor and only addressed his mate. “Because, as I've told them time and again, I'm fine. There's no need.”

* * *

There was something else going on here. Thomas knew it, knew it in the way Alex's eyes were just a little too shifty, knew it in the way Alex squeezed his hand just a little too hard.

All throughout the day, as he rushed to the hospital, as he held and kissed and loved his mate, there were questions in the back of his mind. The _what happened?_ questions, the _what did they do to him?_ questions. And the other question, The Question, that he wasn't even going to think.

Those questions, including The Question, had been temporarily forgotten as they lay there. But now, as the doctor questioned Alex, those questions came back.

“Senator, don't you think that it's best for professionals to determine if your mate is fine or not?” the doctor asked him.

And, yes, he did. But he also trusted his mate. “Are you sure?” he asked Alex, and received a watery nod in response. “Then I think we're fine, doctor, but thank you for your concern.”

The doctor huffed in irritation. “At least let us do some blood work to test for STDs,” she said.

And there it was. The Question, just worded differently. Asked with no finesse, no thought to Alex's wellbeing. Thomas was still reeling from the speed that it had come at, when Alex bit out, “I wasn't raped.”

The relief that rolled over Thomas at those three simple words was palpable.

Not so for the doctor, it seemed. “Senator, you are well within your rights to ask that a test be performed, with or without the omega's consent,” she reminded him. “If nothing else, think of your baby.”

This, right here; this was what he was fighting against with his Bill. Thomas was mad after the first sentence; after the second, he was livid. “How dare you?” he snarled. “How dare you use my child as a weapon like that?!”

The doctor opened her mouth, likely to backpedal, but Alex beat her to it. “Is Dr. James Craik still at this facility?” he asked, in a way that made Thomas sure he already knew the answer. “I believe that it's probably best if we see him instead.”

The doctor actually spoke to him at that. “Mr. Hamilton, you can't just-”

“ _Secretary_ Hamilton, if you please.”

“No matter what you call yourself, you can't just waltz in and demand to see one of our most senior doctors without so much as an appointment!” she insisted.

“If you would tell him my name, I'm sure he'd make the time,” Alex stated calmly.

The doctor tried to come up with a response to that, failed, and stormed out of the room in a huff.

“I think you broke her,” Thomas joked, but Alex just melted into his arms like a puppet whose strings had been cut and trembled. Thomas realized suddenly just what the exchange had cost his mate, and stroked his hair silently.

Whomever this Dr. Craik was, he had much better manners than the previous doctor, at least. He announced himself with a knock before coming in. “Alex!” he greeted Thomas' mate heartily.

“Jim,” Alex responded, gladly taking the offered hand and letting the man bend down to scent with him. “It's been ages!”

“Not since Yorktown, at least!” Dr. Craik – Jim, apparently – agreed. He was of medium height and build, with a Southeast Asian look – Filipino, maybe – and a sunny face filled with laugh lines that Thomas could tell the man had earned quite honestly. “I heard what happened, dude,” he said, his expression taking on a solemnity that even Thomas could tell it wasn't accustomed to. “I'm so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, your staff doesn't seem to feel the same way,” Alex spat out. “They're doing the full 'talking over the omega's head to the Alpha' bit. I know that my mate is technically responsible for my medical care,” Alex paused here, and Thomas felt just how much that must hurt a fiercly independent omega like Alex, especially after all he had been through, “but I'd appreciate them at least not pretending that I'm furniture. Thomas isn't taking his golden retriever to the vet here!”

“I see,” Jim said, sunny face suddenly furious. “Tell you what; I'm going to see to your care myself. If anyone questions it, I'll tell them that George requested it as a personal favor.”

Alex seemed to melt in relief. “Would you do that, Jim?” he gasped out. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

“Just one thing,” Jim stipulated, “you're going to have to find an OB. I can't do that for you.” Alex winced, but nodded in understanding. “I know a dude, though. Great guy, really great with omegas. He's an Alpha,” Thomas felt Alex tense again, “but don't let that stop you. Dr. David Hosack is one of the best physicians in the country. We're lucky to have him here.”

“Can I have Thomas in the room with me when he comes in?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Dr. Craik said. “Speaking of which; sorry for the manners, my man.” The doctor reached down to scent with Thomas much as he had with Alex. “I'm James Craik, but my friends call me Jim; and any mate of Alex's is a friend to me!”

“How do you two know each other, if you don't mind me asking?” Thomas interjected, trying to lighten the conversation.

“We met in the War,” Jim responded, and Thomas fought a wince. So much for lightening the mood. “I was a talented but relatively unknown little doctorling back then, and Geor- _Washington,_ sorry, hired me as his personal physician. Of course, that meant that I also took care of George's gaggle of staff and followers, including Mr. Roaring Mouse over there.” Alex pretended to take offense. “You know we used to call him 'Little Lion' back then?”

“No, no, I didn't,” Thomas admitted, fascinated. “I can tell that Simba and I are going to have to have you over for drinks at some point.”

“Don't drink much,” Jim replied. “But name the date and I'll bring some of my best weed.” Thomas almost choked on his own saliva at that. “Alright, Alex, we've ignored you long enough; let's get you into a gown. Do you want puke green or old bruise blue?”

* * *

Jim had looked over every inch of his body, including having him spread his legs and inspecting his genitals; but those fingers on his skin were familiar, and Jim kept up a hilarious story about running from a cougar while hiking in Shenandoah National Park that didn't leave much room for fear. Alex even chuckled a few times; and the look on Thomas' face at every smile heated Alex's whole body with love for his mate.

They went home with a clean bill of health and a referral for Dr. Hosack. Alex didn't even bother to sit in his own seat but immediately moved to sit in Thomas' lap; Thomas said nothing as he buckled the seat belt around them both.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember Dr. Hosack, he'll be in the next fic as well.


	20. The Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!

Thomas had asked all his friends not to come to the hospital with him, worried that it would be too overwhelming for Alex. He had also asked them not to ambush him as soon as he got home from the hospital. So they had staggered out their visits, to offer their well-wishes.

So, of course, George and Laf were waiting for them when they walked through the door.

Thomas took a breath, ready to scold the President of the United States without remorse, when Alex simply took a few steps and buried his face in George's chest. George wrapped his arms around the omega, which seemed to be all the invitation Alex needed to start sobbing into the Alpha's shirt.

Laf shifted back and forth, uncomfortable, and Thomas was ready to jump in at any time, but George just soothed the omega until his sobbing had subsided. “Feel better?”

Alex nodded.

“Good. It's good to see you back, Son. We were all very concerned for you.”

“We're glad you're safe, _mon ami,”_ Laf interjected.

“Thanks,” Alex replied, mopping at his face with his hand. “Thanks, you two. But, Washington, while you're here, I think we need to talk about my employment.”

Thomas felt himself stiffen, and watched George raise himself to his full height. “Is this the best time?” Thomas asked, but was ignored.

“Sir,” Alex said. “I'd like to tender my resignation, effective immediately.”

Thomas and Laf both gasped, but George just sagged in relief. “Oh, God, I thought I was going to have to fight you on this.”

“It just makes sense,” Alex continued. “You're so close to the end of this term, and I … I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to go into the Treasury Building ever again.” His eyes started to water again, but he viciously swiped at them with his hand and beat them back into submission. “And then I'm going to have the baby, and ...”

“I've actually given this quite a lot of thought,” George admitted. “I'll accept your resignation, effective immediately. But if I win the reelection, I'd like you to come back as my chief speech writer. You'll have an office in the West Wing, of course; but with technology being what it is, you can also work a lot from home. Bring the baby, too, if you'd like. It'll liven things up.”

Alex smiled, and even if it was weak it was at least an attempt. “Not Press Secretary?” he joked.

“Son,” George said, patting Alex on the back, “you know I love you very much, right? So know that I mean no offense when I say that I would literally hire one of my dogs first.”

“It would certainly make press briefings more interesting,” Laf interjected.

“I can't promise anything now,” Alex responded. “But I think that that might be nice. But … but I won't be coming back as Alexander Hamilton.”

“Oh?” George asked, and even Laf looked alarmed at that announcement.

“No,” Alex said. “I've thought about it, and I want my child to grow up in a family with two parents that share the same name.”

As soon as the meaning of what Alex had just said hit him, Thomas felt a grin spread over his face. “You mean you … ?” he asked, and grinned even harder when Alex nodded in affirmation.

“Then allow me to be the first to congratulate you, Alexander Jefferson,” George said with a smile of his own.

“Thank you,” Alex replied. “Now, if you'll excuse me; I'd really love to get a shower in my own bathroom and change into my own clothes.” Something must have shown on his face, because Alex speared him with a look. “Alone, Thomas,” he said. “Christ, do you know how long it's been since I've been alone?” And with that alarming statement, he left the room.

Thomas watched him go, itching with the urge to run after him and never again let him out of his sight.

“Let him go,” George told him, laying a casual hand on his shoulder. Thomas must look miserable; George rarely touched anybody voluntarily, outside of his circle of adopted sons.

“I just … can't help but feel like he isn't safe,” Thomas said. “After all, those kidnappers are still on the loose, and we don't even know who hired them in the first place.”

“Yes we do,” George said, a hint of a smug smile on his lips. “Once they got him talking, Murphy told us _everything.”_

* * *

“Director Clemson?” the man in the uniform addressed him.

William looked up at him, annoyed. “That's _Former_ Director Clemson,” he bit out. “What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?” He gestured to the grounds around them, then went back to choosing his golf club. “Can't this nonsense wait?” 

“I'm afraid it can't, sir,” the man said. “There have been some … allegations made against you by a former associate of yours. We're going to need you to come with us, to answer some questions.”

William saw the man's partner's hand twitch towards his gun, and saw the couple playing the hole in front of his watching him inconspicuously, and saw the security camera that had inexplicably turned his way, and realized that the plan he had thought up to preserve Alphan rights had backfired horribly.

* * *

Thomas gave Alex an hour, seeing George and Laf out and thanking them for the casserole that they had brought by and promised to pass their well-wishes on to Alex, before starting up the stairs.

He found his mate in their bedroom, dressed in his favorite pair of pyjamas, staring at his hand. It took Thomas a moment to understand the significance of that hand, and a moment more to realize what Alex was looking at; when he did, he felt the anger that had become so familiar these past days flair up in his gut. He walked over to the bed and climbed on beside Alex; taking his hand gently in his own, Thomas slipped the fake ring off his finger.

“They gave that to me,” Alex said, voice surprisingly flat. “They burned mine, in case it had a tracking device. They said that that was surprisingly common in the very wealthy, GPS-enabled jewelry. But they knew I missed it, so they gave me that one. It matched theirs.” He experimentally flexed his fingers, getting used to the lack of a ring. “They weren't going to release me, you know,” Alex continued. “Even if you did everything they asked. They were going to keep me, and … and the baby, I was going to have the baby there … He wanted that baby, so bad.”

Thomas felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “Who wanted the baby?” he asked, making his voice as gentle as possible.

“Echo,” Alex said. “He wouldn't … he wouldn't let me do anything, not anything. I was always chained, or handcuffed, or shackled. He was always there, always with me. He slept with me, he ate with me, he … they always watched me shower, afraid I was going to make a bomb out of the shower gel or something I guess, but then he would bathe me, and shackle me and make me stand there cold and nude while they shaved me … and he would … he … one time, we woke up, and he ...”

“Alex,” Thomas muttered. “Did you lie to the doctor today?”

“No!” Alex insisted, looking at Thomas for the first time since he entered the room. “It wasn't like that! I promise you, Thomas; Echo just wanted to play house. I mean, there was a couple times that he … he put his hand on my … but I asked him to stop and he did! I promise you!”

“I wouldn't be mad if he did, Alex; you know that, right?” _Not mad at you,_ he amended himself silently.

“I know,” Alex said, and seemed to mean it. “I just … I want you to know, that they didn't … do that.”

Thomas kissed his mate's forehead, letting what he had been told sink in. They wanted to  _take his baby._ Automatically, possessively, he spread a hand over Alex's stomach, but pulled it back when Alex flinched. “It's okay,” his mate said. “It's okay, I'll get used to it again.” Alex took Thomas' hand, and placed it back on his own stomach.

“Did Echo used to do that, too?” Thomas asked, sure to keep the bitterness he was feeling out of his voice.

“He wanted to play house,” Alex reminded him.

“Well,” Thomas said, moving his hand so that he could bend down and kiss his mate's stomach, “you're not his to play house with, are you?”

“I'm yours,” Alex agreed, watching Thomas out of the corner of his eye.

“No,” Thomas corrected. “You're yours; you're your own person.”

Alex looked at him with hooded eyes. “I'm yours,” he repeated simply. Something shifted in his scent, something that went straight to Thomas' cock. “Make me yours, Alpha.”

Thomas considered, then moved off the bed. “If you're mine,” he said, kneeling at Alex's feet, “then I should probably take care of you, hmm? Make you feel good?” He gazed up at Alex with hooded eyes of his own, putting on his best bedroom face, but in reality watching for any sign, any twitch any indication that Alex was uncomfortable. Instead, he watched Alex's pupils blow. “Make you feel so good that even the neighbors can hear you scream my name?” Alex actually gasped at that, then gasped again as Thomas leaned forward to mouth at his dick through his pants. “Is that what you want, Daaaaaarlin'?”

Alex gasped again. He had always loved when Thomas drawled that word. Vaguely, he nodded.

Thomas dropped the act for just a moment. “Alex, Love, I need to hear you say it,” he said. “I need to hear you verbalize that you want to proceed, before I-”

In lieu of words, Alex simply pulled himself free of his pyjama pants.

Close enough. Thomas spent a moment to nuzzle at his mate's dick, run his nose along its length to listen to the little gasps and chitters his mate made in response, and watch it literally grow before his nose. He licked at his balls, mouthing the sensitive skin there, and was sure to pay attention to the dimple behind them and the indent between them.

When he could sense Alex growing impatient, he took the entire dick into his mouth easily in one go. Alex was fairly impressively endowed for an omega, but he still didn't have nearly the size of even a tiny Alpha. And Thomas loved him for it. He was the perfect size, he was the perfect shape, he was _perfect_. Thomas moaned around the dick in his mouth, causing Alex's breath to hitch.

They hadn't been bonded for a year and a half for nothing. Thomas knew every spot on his mate, every trick, that made Alex melt. He knew that if he ran his tongue across _that_ ridge, if he flicked his tongue in _this_ way, if he used his fingers to massage the dimple behind his balls like _that_ , if he-

And just like that, Alex was coming down his throat. Thomas had to swallow quickly to avoid choking on the jizz suddenly filling his throat. He'd chide his mate for not warning him, but Alex looked even more startled than Thomas. "Guess I'm more sensitive than I thought?" he mumbled by way of an apology.

“Don't worry about it,” Thomas said, standing back up and putting Alex back to rights. “Now, why don't we-”

“What about you?” Alex interrupted.

Thomas frowned at the omega. “Don't worry about me,” he tried to insist, but Alex was already sliding to the floor at his feet.

One look at those red red lips around the dark brown skin almost made Thomas come just like that. Those doe eyes staring up at him through those long lashes, the pink blush staining his bulging cheeks, the silky tousled hair ... Then his tongue was swirling around the foreskin of Thomas' dick, and Thomas thought he just might die like this.

Not a bad way to go, all things considering.

Then Alex was standing up while Thomas was still painfully erect. “Is everything okay?” he asked the omega, worried.

“If I finish you off on my knees, you can't knot me,” Alex pointed out pragmatically as he pulled his shirt off over his head.

Thomas agreed that that was a very, very good point as he followed suit.

He hadn't been able to see much in the hospital, more concerned with his mate's mental condition than his physical, so he discreetly watched every inch of skin that emerged as Alex stripped, looking for any injuries. Fortunately, except for the bite mark on his shoulder that made Thomas' stomach clench in possessive rage and the mysterious bandage wrapped around his ankle, he looked fine.

More than fine, Thomas thought as he lay his mate down onto the bed. He suddenly understood what people meant when they said that their pregnant mates had a glow about them. “I hope those idiots knew what they were witnessing, when they watched you shower and shave,” Thomas muttered as he stared down at his mate's naked body.

“Actually, Murphy said that I wasn't much to look at,” Alex replied, a tad bitterly.

Not much to ... ?! His mate was the pinnacle of omegan perfection! “Did he have glaucoma, by any chance?” he asked, and Alex chuckled. “Cataracts? Had he just recently lost his last pair of glasses? Any head injuries?”

Alex was laughing now, fully laughing, and Thomas decided that he would give every penny he owned to keep hearing that sound. “Then, again, the man's first reaction to finding out that half the country is hunting him down for treason is to return to the scene of the crime, so I'm really having my doubts about the man's intelligence in the firs-”

“Okay, new rule,” Alex interrupted. “No talking about Murphy in the bedroom.”

“Done,” Thomas agreed easily. And hesitated. “Alex, Darling, if you feel at all uncomfortable about anything I do, please tell me! You've been through a lot, and I don't want to-”

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” Alex huffed. “If you don't put it in me right now, I'm going to leave you and see if Echo will still- umm.”

Alright, then. Thomas raised Alex's pelvis and slid himself into the omega before he could finish his tirade, stopping the flow of words and making him hum in happiness. But Thomas didn't want him to hum; he wanted him to scream, preferably some variation of Thomas' or the Lord's name. He began to thrust into his mate, pulling himself out before slamming back in. Alex was still so sensitive from his first orgasm, it didn't take long. Thomas reached around and began to caress Alex's dick with his hands, one two three strokes, and his mate was coming all over his own stomach. That sent Thomas over the edge, and he felt himself swelling into a knot as he came himself.

He held Alex through the post-orgasm tremors that always came with the knot, holding him close and kissing along his jawline, feeling his mate relax in his arms. When his knot deflated and he was able to slip free, he felt oddly detached.

Alex lay beside him, as they both basked in the afterglow of their own lovemaking. Unable to stand it any longer, Thomas put a hand on Alex's bare stomach again, imagining the invisible life growing inside. Alex flinched at his touch, but not nearly as badly as before. His mate was already getting used to his touch again. Thomas didn't relent, but left his hand there; it didn't take long for Alex to relax completely under him and turn to burrow into his side.

“You're pregnant,” Thomas said, in awe, because holy shit, he was going to be a father!

“Mmm,” Alex agreed.

“I guess this means we're going to have to get bonded,” Thomas said with a sigh.

It earned him a slight smile. “My nefarious plan to trap a wealthy Alpha has worked,” he responded.

“And here I thought you wanted me for my roguish good looks and amazing charisma.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Alex queried innocently, then laughed at Thomas' affronted look.

The next several days, and weeks, and months, were going to be rough. They would need to have some difficult conversations, about therapy, about work, about the Secret Service agents that Thomas didn't think Alex noticed had followed them home. On top of all that, they would need to plan for their lives to be completely turned upside-down by a new baby. There would be panic attacks on top of shopping for the crib, fights over boundaries while deciding on baby names, doctor's appointments and therapist's appointments. Their definition of normal had changed, and would change again, and they would have to change with it.

But as they lay there, Alex tucked into his side and filling the room with the scent of comfort and satisfaction and well-sexed omega, Thomas knew that he would have it no other way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally done! 20 chapters and 33k words in 18 days!
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed it! I believe I've tied up all loose ends, but if I've forgotten something, or you just want to tell me how pissed/relieved you are that Echo and Victor got away, feel free to tell me in the comments below.
> 
> Also, I'll be doing a sequel to this work about Alex's pregnancy and the baby. I'm not sure when I'm starting it or how it'll go, so be sure to subscribe to [The Hamil-ABO 'Verse](http://archiveofourown.org/series/636134) so you won't miss it. I'm not sure yet just how detailed I'm going to get on the actual anatomy scenes and how omega male pregnancy works, so if you have any feelings on it one way or another be sure to also mention that in the comments.
> 
> I love you guys, and really really really appreciate all the love and support I got in the comments! It really means the world to me, and keeps me going! I hope to see you all at my next fic soon! <3


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